Tyson and Jennessa
by JennessaArthyn
Summary: The adventures of an exiled elf paladin, his disproving family, and a young human wizard falling completely enamored with him.
1. Battleaxe

Tyson sunk as he remembered, for the hundredth time since they'd begun their journey from Glitter with the Balguts, that his axe was buried in a hillside in the middle of nowhere, probably blanketed in three feet of snow.

He'd considered buying a new one in Starhold, or going back for it in a week. Even if he'd found it, it could be brittle and damaged by then. Proper battleaxes were pricey. It was a decision he'd have to make tomorrow. Tonight, however, he got drunk.

Turning to his companions, who were bidding the family of farmers goodbye in the setting sun, he spoke, "I'm throwing a party," which was plenty enough of an invitation. He started off before pausing and adding, "Sly can't come," with an indignant, "hey!" in response form the Inu. He'd be damned if anyone so morally corrupt was allowed to taint his home. And then he was gone.

Jennessa smiled, knowing that to be as close to an invitation as she would receive from Tyson.

"That sounds fun! Are you going?" she said to Cardinal, hardly waiting for a response. "Jellixa won't even be there. He probably needs cheering up after tumbling down—" and then she remembered. "TYSON, wait!" Jennessa trotted after him, unsheathing the axe that she could barely hold, but Tyson was already gone.

_It's alright. I'll see him tonight at the party. I can bring it to his house. _As she found herself out of breath from jogging with Tyson's battleaxe, a different thought occurred to her. _Or maybe he can pick it up at mine._

Tyson, after sufficiently having hidden valuable and breakable objects within his home, marched into the bar next door and up to the bartended who greeted him happily.

"Tyson! Back from your travels? We haven't seen you in—"

"Two barrels." Tyson slapped down 30 gold pieces, which quickly garnered the attention of everyone in the tavern, including the bartend who quickly snatched up the currency and secured it away from hungry eyes.

"You shouldn't throw money around like that," he whispered, irritated, but rolling over two barrels of meads and ales nonetheless.

"I can handle myself," Tyson responded, hoisting them up onto his shoulders and proclaiming to the twenty or so patrons waiting, "Party next door." He left to the sounds of hastily left chairs and tables rattling as word spread.

Ten minutes or so later Tyson sat on his balcony, sipping his fourth drink to the sounds of merriment around him and watching as villagers joined in. He secretly hoped his friends would come.

Jennessa spent a fair amount of time magically primping and prettying herself, for this night held great promise of actually receiving affection from Tyson. The last party they went to together resulted in a kiss, so she wondered if the lucky streak would continue. When at last she arrived at Tyson's, her wild red hair was contained in an elegant French braid, and she had traded in her battle-worn robes for a flowing evening gown reserved for only special occasions. "Chicks, am I right?" Shadow joked into Cardinal's ear as they entered Tyson's house together.

Tyson had gotten tired of people watching, and had cheered (masculinely) with the rest as a tipsy bard improvised an intermittent tune on a pipe. He heard a crash downstairs and strode to investigate when he caught sight of Cardinal boasting about Shadow's greatness to a pretty human girl and a young female Inu while Shadow tried to make himself look impressive and attractive at the same time. Tyson pretended he hadn't seen them and glanced around for Jennessa before realizing that she WAS the human girl with Cardinal and Shadow. The dress was new, and she was cleaned up a bit, but the fiery red hair was unmistakable. He considered greeting his friends, but opted to let them find him, and let himself be pulled off into a crowd by some grateful partygoers to dance (which was admittedly easier when he wasn't weighed down by his armor).

Being around Shadow and Cardinal was fun, but it was not the objective of the night for Jennessa. Tyson was surprisingly absent for a party at his own home. She finally caught sight of him, wiggling his limbs in a crowd of drunk dancing bargoers. Without ceremonial farewells, Jennessa took a swig of mead to install some bravery, then approached the dance.

"Tyson!" She shouted over music and laughter, forcing her way with determination to the Paladin. He looked remarkably approachable without his armor, almost as if he could be hurt.

Tyson was feeling the warmth of the alcohol and starting smile and laugh with others as he let loose for the first time in a while. His brother was miles away and his axe the last thing on his mind. His ears perked as he heard someone calling his name, and he turned to see Jennessa trying to maneuver her way through the crowd without being eaten. He tried to seem nonchalant and cool when a staggering half-elf danced into him and he awkwardly stumbled forward a few steps, coming to a halt in front of the wizard.

"Jennessa," he said in greeting, forgetting not to sound pleased.

Butterflies in her chest were almost too much to force words through as he stumbled towards her. A huge smile lit up her face when she heard the way he said her name, just like she dreams. _I have fought dragons and ghosts and dread kings. I can talk to this man_, Jennessa told herself, and mustered up voice enough to say,

"Hi."

Some human, already drunk before leaving the bar, fell into Jennessa from behind, leaving her eyes broken from their lock with Tyson as she fell forward, grasping at his chest for support.

Tyson reflexively caught Jennessa, keeping her from falling onto the ground, and steadied her before taking his hands off her waist. He wrote off the heat on his ears as slight intoxication, clearing his throat. "Let's get out of this." He led her to the parlor where people were (much more calmly) enjoying some game involving stacking things. Getting Jennessa off of the dance floor seemed like a good idea. He found a bottle of something and leaned against the wall, albeit crookedly, and felt Jennessa's eyes on him. Did he have something on his shirt? "Where's Cardinal?" Had he left? Bastard.

Jennessa barely heard him over her own pounding heart.

"I'm not sure." He was actually looking out for her, not just because he needed her spells. Could it be he actually enjoyed her company? "He doesn't drink much any more. He might have left. Why?"

He shrugged noncommittally. He was hoping the fighter would challenge him to a drink-off.

"No reason. He can do what he wants." He offered the bottle to Jennessa. "Have you set off any fireworks yet?"

Jennessa smirked a little. "No. Not today." She held the bottle up to her lips for a moment, then found herself unable to identify the liquor inside, but took a swallow anyway. Her nose burned sharply. As she shook her head quickly and handed the bottle back, she remembered her great plan to get Tyson on his own, and maybe even put him in a better mood.

"Axe," she said suddenly, bright blue eyes wide. "Your axe. I picked it up for you before we left."

Tyson snorted at her reaction to the beverage, before his head shot up, his own eyes widening excitedly.

"My axe? You have it? Where is it?" He found himself reaching out as if to grab the weapon that was obviously not slung over this woman's back. His mood was markedly improved.

Jennessa couldn't help but smile at his reaction. Tyson passionate was a rare and wonderful sight. "It's safe, at my house. We can go pick it up if you like, it's not far..."

Tyson practically yanked Jennessa out the front door through happy warm bodies who tried to call their generous host back. Sly, who had crashed the festivities against orders, howled in approval at the two of them leaving together. "Use protection!"

Jennessa was pretty certain they wouldn't need shields or armor just walking from Tyson's house to hers, but was somewhat comforted by how Sly cared. She still had a couple of spells ready to go today, anyway, if trouble did arise.

"I can lead the way," Jennessa assured Tyson, although she was unwilling to yank her hand free of his.

Tyson was more than happy to let her, realizing he did not actually know the way. He'd never thought about that before. Where DID Jennessa live? He released her hand and stuck his in his pockets in a posture his brother would never approve of and walked at a comfortable pace next to her.

"Why didn't you give it to me back in Glitter?" He was too relieved to be annoyed, but was still curious.

"Oh, I meant to." Jennessa said quickly, brushing her sweaty palm on her dress. "But with the Balguts and everything, it slipped my mind. I only remembered when you had already left to throw a party." She tucked some hair behind her rounded ear as she walked with him. "It was a little too cumbersome to bring to a party with me, so i just had to leave it at home and let you know."

Seemed reasonable enough. Tyson nodded. "I've had it for a few decades now. High grade Elven steel." Why was he telling her this? "My father gave it to me." Tyson felt his tongue loosening as he talked about his past. Something he NEVER did. He bit his cheek to stop the words. Thinking about his father made his think about his brother, and thinking about his brother made him think about his impending execution. Which was a real downer on a night like this.

A shy smile spread on Jennessa' face into her eyes. "I bet your father was as brave a man as you," she said softly. Tyson huffed in amusement. His father, brave? Yes, in the way he fearlessly led guests into the sitting room. But he straightened up a little bit from being called brave by an attractive woman, even if that woman was Jennessa. "Yeah maybe."

Jennessa stifled an amused chuckle, but stepped a little closer. It didn't take the mind of an arcanist to know the way to Tyson's heart was flattery.

"Your brother is really not though," she joked.

"Saeran is a coward," Tyson said bitterly, watching his feet and getting quiet. He knew Jennessa wasn't trying to upset him. There's no way she could know anything about… well, everything. He met her eyes with slightly amusement and said, finally, "and he really can't take a punch."

His reaction surprised her. "I'm sorry? Did I- wait, you hit him?"

Hadn't she seen him whining about it to Elza? Saeran tended to make a scene.

"He had it coming." Tyson looked away, not liking where this conversation was going.

Pieces began to come together across Tyson's shadowy face. "Well he's a snob, sure, but..." Jennessa wondered what had turned Tyson so sour, with just minutes ago he was happy and drunk and dancing and caring for her.

"I feel like I'm missing a piece of this story."

"He doesn't care about you," Tyson said suddenly, remembering the smile that lighted Jennessa's face when Saeran had complimented her architecture to win her over, as he had so many before. "He doesn't care about me. He doesn't care about anyone but himself. He-" Tyson trailed off, blowing out a breath of air and trying not to get too worked up. "You guys shouldn't talk to him."

Jennessa stopped walking, shocked. His words hurt like a bugbear's fist knocking the breath from her lungs. She had never suspected anything shady to come from a handsome face like Saeran's, so much like his. But once she heard the words from Tyson, she remembered all too well that glib smooth talkers like Saeran should never be trusted. "My house is this way." she said finally, voice weak, as she turned left down the path.

Tyson was grateful that she'd let it drop. He hadn't decided if he was going to tell them yet. He hurried after her, his breath fogging in the frigid air. He'd never been along this street before. He was appreciating the lucid surroundings and couldn't imagine having to see them as a human, with no color at night when everything was at its most beautiful. He noticed Jennessa's cheeks were pale, and wondered if it was from the cold or from his outburst.

Jennessa was starting to learn that gowns like this, while great for impressing men, were very lacking in functionality and protection from elements. If she made it to her warm house before an icy tear left her eyes, she would be fine. Why would he say that? How did he know who Saeran did or did not care about? Angry thoughts rushed through her head before it occurred to her he might have been jealous.

Tyson groaned inaudibly at the tense air between the two of them now. Where was the alcohol when you needed it? He was torn between leaving Jennessa to her thoughts and fixing what he'd done to upset her. He settled for changing the subject. Sometimes he didn't mind the quiet, but he liked noise.

"Have you ever felt like getting away?"

She glanced back at him. "Yeah. I grabbed a quarterstaff and hit the road." It was sassy perhaps, but true. Jennessa turned back to the path and tried to discreetly wipe her eye.

"Why do you br-bring it up?" she said through the cold.

He pretended he hadn't seen, but now he knew he'd upset her. Great. Some friend he was.

"Before I left home, everywhere I went, everyone I talked to was.. dragging me down," he gestured desperately in explanation. "I've been feeling like that a lot lately," he muttered quietly.

_Of course. He didn't belong. Elf society is designed for the thoughtful, the talkative, the cowardly...not like Tyson at all. Everything he had been running from, Saeran brought it all back to him. _

"I didn't mean to upset you," he finished. That was as close to an apology as he would get.

"It's alright." Jennessa managed a smile at him. "It wasn't really you, it was just that now I understand the type of man Saeran is." She sighed, and said softly, "I should have known better than to believe it."

"I used to believe it too," Tyson said cryptically as Jennessa brought him to a building that must have been her own. Jennessa had smiled. That was good, right?

Her home was of modest size, with cute bay windows filled with oddities and exotic plants. Thin greenish smoke rose from the chimney out of the thatch roof.

"Come on in," Jennessa said sweetly as she unlocked the door and swept it open. Inside the cozy parlor room, tables and shelves one would expect to see tea and cutlery on were piled with scrolls, writings, trinkets, diagrams, formulas, flasks, and a dozen other arcane implements. Tidiness took a backseat to Jennessa's studying. A toad croaked and hopped off the stair rail, into a potted purple fern that lived halfway through the doorway into the kitchen. The only place devoid of clutter was a simple pedestal, encased with glass and sealed tight, with Brawn's spellbook locked within.

Tyson stepped in and was immediately taken aback as he tried to absorb all of his surroundings. He didn't know how one person could accumulate so many things. Were all humans like this? He felt his own home extremely lacking in comparison. Perhaps Tyson should buy some more things… He grimaced at the memory of the fraud who had nearly had them all killed (she put that on display?) before found himself drawn to the small toad on the fern and he reached to pick it up.

"Careful!" Jennessa said suddenly, then calmer, "Some of the plants are carnivorous. Um... your axe is upstairs." Blushing, she quickly headed up the carpeted staircase, picking up her dress as she went.

Tyson withdrew his hand, really not wanting to deal with magical botany. At the mention of his axe, his mood lifted again and he hurried to follow her up the stairs, trying not to stare at her. She wasn't the most graceful, but Jennessa filled out the gown beautifully. Axe.

Jennessa opened the door to her bedroom once they arrived on the top floor. It was less full of stuff than the downstairs, and furniture consisted of only a simple bed, a wardrobe with few garments, and two nightstands; one with an oil lamp and a few books on it, and the other where her "adventuring gear" had been piled, with her staff leaning against the wall near it. Jennessa lifted from behind the wardrobe the big ornate axe that could only be his.

Tyson let his face light up in a rare broad smile, reaching to take his axe and place his fingers in the familiar hand holds when they brushed against Jennessa's. He quickly ended contact and shifted the axe so it was resting comfortably against his shoulder and met Jennessa's eyes.

"Thank you."

He couldn't remember the last time he'd shown gratitude, and he could only imagine what Saeran would say about this. Thanking a human. Casting aside his valuable axe and leaving it in the first place. But Jennessa had gone out of her way to do something for him because she cared, not for personal gain. And he was grateful.

Jennessa looked back in to his eyes, so full of joy. She had never seen him so wholly happy, without a care or a streak of blood across his face, as she did then. Seeing him looking right as rain with his axe in hand made Jennessa wonder if he wasn't happy enough (and just drunk enough) for her to do something totally nuts. So before she could change her mind, she stepped forward, leaned on her toes, shut her eyes, and kissed him.

Tyson felt warmth pooling in his gut and he closed his eyes at the press of inexperienced lips, tilting his head slightly to kiss her properly before his mind caught up to him. He pulled back. "J-Jennessa.." he managed. Did she want something from him? Was this payment for his axe? Why..?

Color flooded Jennessa's face as she felt she made some mistake, but it was almost worth it to feel him kiss back, even for just a moment. "I'm sorry. Was that-? I'm sorry." Panic rose in her chest and she couldn't look at him. She had no spell for this.

"Don't apologize, just-" Tyson calmed his breathing. "I.." He didn't understand, but he didn't want to admit that out loud. He wasn't paying her. She wouldn't gain any social status from sleeping with him. What was her angle? His fuzzy mind raced to come up with answers, but all he was able to was gawk at her. She looked spooked. "Are you alright?"

Humiliation slowly turned to confusion. "Well, I'm not... good... I thought maybe after the party at Glitter you... we..." Jennessa grasped at explanations for his behavior. Offense, indignance, anger, even nausea would at least have a reasonable explanation. Then it hit her, and she clapped a hand to her mouth. "Am I that inexperienced that you didn't know I was trying to kiss you?"

Tyson started. "No you- what?" He shook his head, trying to clear his sluggish brain. "Of course I know that! But why?"

Jennessa stared at the ground. What an odd question to ask. "What reasons do I need?" She rubbed her impractically bare shoulders. The bedroom wasn't as warm as she expected. "You're the kindest, bravest, strongest, most handsome man I've ever met." Looking at his eyes would take a feat of courage she could not yet muster. "I just want to kiss you. I liked the last time I tried it."

Tyson was flushed. "Because you wanted.." The words echoed in his head. Kind, brave, strong, handsome… She thought these things about HIM. She cared about HIM. He felt warmer, and against any better judgment, he dropped his axe and stepped forward in one fluid motion to take her jaw and kiss her again. Because hell if he didn't like it too.

He caught her in a surprised gasp, lips apart. Amazement rippled her brain as she realized Tyson was kissing her, holding her against him. Tyson, the proud elf, cast aside his racial prejudice and more literally his weapon, to embrace her lips in an unbelievable warmth. Once her brain caught up to her body, she realized that all her inexperience was unimportant in this moment, than for once simply not thinking would lead her to all that she desired. She let him guide her lips and threw her arms around his shoulders. Every moment of fear and terror and pain they met in battle, all was worth it so she could have survived to this one kiss.

Tyson didn't know what he was doing, he didn't know what would become of them after this, but he didn't care. He knew that he felt happy, happier than he did every time he kissed a prostitute. The same pang of elation he felt when she handed him his axe that she'd thought to grab for him with a shy smile on her face. And he cared about her. He cared about her in battle when some bandit had the gall to attack her, or when she managed to burn enemies into ashes before their eyes, or when Saeran talked to her and told her meaningless compliments that meant something to her. And somehow caring made this so much better. Tyson let his arms curl around her waist and back, and lost himself in her, hoping to hang onto this feeling at least for the rest of the night.

Tyson pressed against Jennessa, backing her legs into the bed so that they buckled and she landed softly on the mattress. He kicked off his boots and crawled up until he was hovering over her, leaning down and trailing kisses up the side of her jaw and down to her neck where he sucked gently on her collarbone.

Jennessa felt a nervous bout of butterflies as he pressed her into the bed. She couldn't clearly say whether this is what she wanted or not, at least not while his lips wandered towards her pounding heart. "Oh, Tyson," Jennessa murmured, without really meaning to, letting a hand wander slowly and explore his firm chest.

Tyson hummed in response, leaning into her touch, and moved to continue his descent after leaving a define mark on Jennessa's otherwise pale neck. His eyelids drooped and he lowered his body so he didn't have to support it so much on his arms. He lifted his mouth to Jennessa's again, kissing her deeper than before.

As he kissed her, Jennessa knew for certain there was nothing in her willpower she could do to stop Tyson from whatever he wanted to do to her. She twisted a lock of his hair around her finger and pressed her lips against his with all the passion in her exploding heart.

Tyson broke the kiss, breathing heavily and shifting to murmur into her ear,

"Jennessa, you're brave too. I want you to know what I think. I think.. you're.. you… " The second his head touched the pillow he was out, his body draped heavily over Jennessa's whilst he elicited quiet snores.

Jennessa waited for a moment. "I... I'm what?" She gave Tyson a gentle shove, to no result (except for a little creak in the mattress). "You're asleep." Jennessa breathed a disappointed sigh and made a great effort to get out from underneath him. The body so full of passion a moment ago was now totally immobile, except for heaves of breath for snoring. "You can't sleep here." Jennessa said gently, to absolutely no purpose. "Your friends are waiting for you at the party. And what is Sly going to think? Tyson?" Jennessa finally gave up stirring him and decided to let him sleep. Should he sleep with all those clothes on? No, no, definitely not best to undress the unconscious paladin in your bed. Jennessa instead simply wrapped him up in her blanket, climbed into the bed a respectable space away from him, and extinguished the oil lamp with a fluid snap of her fingers.


	2. Morning

Jennessa awoke that morning surprisingly cold in her bed. As she blinked awake, she wondered briefly why she was in such an uncomfortable dress and why there was no blanket on her. Then she remembered, and quickly glanced at the other side of the bed to see, sure enough, Tyson lying fully clothed and sleeping like a log. Her heart swelled at the memory of the night before, coming back in gloriously vivid patches. Catching her fall on the dance floor, grasping her hand as they left his home, dropping his axe to kiss her, pressing her into the bed... Jennessaa thought Tyson looked like he needed a few more hours to sleep, so she carefully slipped out of bed, dressed herself (cautiously), and tiptoed downstairs. She could prepare spells while he rested.  
Tyson opened his eyes when the first ray of sunshine fell over his face, immediately wishing he hadn't. He felt like going back to sleep, throwing up, and strangling himself were all practical solutions to the massive hangover pounding its will within his skull. Tyson went to grab one of his many feathered pillows when he could only find one rather generic one. Why ? Oh. OH. As glimpses of the night before rushed back into Tyson's head, he stood with a panic to grab his axe and rush out only to fall forward onto the ground.  
Although she planned to prepare spells, her mind was too full of rosy thoughts to focus on anything but the handsome, caring man upstairs in her bedroom. When Jennessa heard a heavy thud from upstairs, she slammed shut her journal and cast it aside to rush up and investigate. "Tyson?" Jennessa shouted up the stairs with concern, running to her room.  
Tyson grabbed the bed frame and hauled himself up, remembering how to stand this time. He vaguely heard Jennessa calling his name and buried his head in his hands. He was at Jennessa's house? He tried to ask when that had happened but all he managed was a throaty groan.  
Jennessa opened the door to her room to see him on his feet, thankfully. She couldn't help but smile at him. "Good morning," she said shyly, then remembered how to have a guest in your home. "Are you alright? Hungry? I'm sure I have some fruit downstairs, and maybe a little bacon..." Seeing Tyson in her bedroom was still nerve-racking, but Jennessa couldn't be happier to see him, even if he wasn't feeling well after so much drinking.  
Tyson certainly didn't feel like eating right now. He didn't want to be rude, but he didn't want to take advantage of his friend's hospitality. "I should go.." he started, fumbling gracelessly for his axe. Had he done anything last night? On one hand, he was still completely clothed. On the other, he woke up in her bed.  
Jennessa's face fell. "Okay. You probably want to clean up your house, huh?" she managed. She was definitely hoping he would stay around, and maybe even kiss her some more.  
With a grunt of affirmation, Tyson lifted his axe over his shoulder and took quick, careful steps toward the stairs. When he reached the door, he paused and really looked at Jennessa for the first time this morning. The air was slightly tense, and he had to know. "...Did I sleep with you last night?"  
Jennessa's cheeks turned pink. "Well I didn't want to force you to sleep on the couch."  
Jennessa was blushing, and Tyson KNEW that he had kissed her at least once. But her answer was innocent enough. Besides, this wasn't some whore he'd bought himself a night with. This was JENNESSA. There was no way anything had happened. Tyson nodded. "I see. In that case, I'll be on my way then." He DID need to get home and clean up after that party. Moreover, he needed out of this building. He knew that she meant well, but he could care for himself. "Um thank you." God that was unnatural. "For my axe. And letting me stay here." He hurriedly opened the door to avoid eye contact.  
"Is that it?" Jennessa blurted, then clapped a hand to her mouth. There was so much passion last night, and she KNEW there was more to experience. De he care about her or not? Did he even remember?  
That reaction startled him. Tyson's eyes darted to Jennessa's face and he tried to read her emotions. "What were you expecting?"  
Jennessa shrunk under his gaze. Last night was just a drunk fluke, like the party before. His last words from last night echoed in her head. /Jennessa, you're brave too. I want you to know that.../ In a fit of courage she set her hand over his on top of the doorknob. "You don't open up much." she said softly, looking into his pale eyes. "That's what I was expecting. To know what you're thinking, for once. What you're feeling."  
Tyson felt slightly guilty, and his heart leapt familiarly at the touch. "We talked last night." It wasn't really a question. He sighed heavily. "There isn't much I need to say."  
Tyson didn't know WHAT he thinking. He had public execution on the horizon, and his brother reminding him of all the horrible things he had left back in their homeland. And he had no solution without deviating from the law, which stood against everything he had ever lived for. And now here he was, complicating relationships with his comrades and HE didn't even know what he was doing. He was feeling "powerless." He hadn't meant to say that out loud.  
"What do you mean, powerless?" Jennessa met his gaze, confidence returning. "Tyson... why did you kiss me back?"  
"I " He was starting to remember scene by scene the night previous, and he recalled a sudden rush of emotion that overpowered his other senses. Just another example of something controlling him, only it was internal. "You wanted me to." He couldn't state it simpler than that. She had kissed him first, and showered all of these compliments and truths, and he was finally being accepted and desired for who he was...  
Jennessa was relieved to hear that explanation, even if it was puzzling. She let herself smile. "Yes, I did." Jennessa let go of his hand on the door knob. Maybe he didn't care for her the same way she did for him (yet) but at least he could understand her well enough to reciprocate. Jennessa suddenly threw her arms around Tyson in a hug. He was willing to let her show affection, a first in her life.  
Tyson was baffled. The first second she's upset with him for being his usual unresponsive self, and now she's holding him in a way he's completely unfamiliar with. It was warm and restricting, but somehow still pleasant, and he let the arm not toting his beloved weapon wrap awkwardly around her middle before he cleared his throat and pulled away, his face burning uncomfortably. "I'll see you around."  
Jennessa stepped back, keeping her smile somewhat contained while inside she only wanted to sing and dance. "Ok. Enjoy your axe." Tyson was blushing. Tyson; stoic, nonemotive tough guy, was blushing over a hug. Jennessa held the door open for him.  
Tyson all but ran from the home, ignoring the temptation to look over his shoulder. Rather than focus on what had to be one of the strangest encounters he'd had, he turned his thoughts to his house, where hungover townsfolk were sure to be still plastered or sleeping it off all over his furniture. Kicking people out. He composed himself. This he could manage.  
Jennessa shut the door behind him and leaned against it, slowly sinking to the floor in happy splendor. He wouldn't say it, but she knew Tyson appreciated affection from her almost as much as she craved it from him. Overwhelmed with emotion, Jennessa pounced on her journal to scribble out her feelings until she saw Esther again, so she could talk to someone about these miraculous events. 


	3. Out

"I find it hard to believe Jastra's blossoms aren't blooming. She's been spending SO much time gardening." A voice whispered conspiratorially.

Sidhion leaned his head on a palm when his mother had turned away as he listened to the gossip firing through the dinner hall. He couldn't care less who was sleeping with who, but he knew it was important. 'Smile big and forget nothing,' his mother often told him. But he still felt a bit young to listening in these inner circles and having his opinion actually matter.

His eyes traveled to their favorite spot of the evening. Saeran, the elder of the Naïlo sons, was seated at the table a few seats to the left, with his younger sibling stabbing at his salad and wiping his nose with his sleeve. Revolting.

"Tyson. Tyson, no," Saeran whispered to his younger brother. It was exasperating how the room was full of earsplitting secrets and his own kin glowered disrespectfully. He was so glad to be deemed mature enough to sit in on formal dinners, and yet, he had to also be here with his excuse for a brother. Saeran heaved a sigh and gave up on Tyson's bad manners. Maybe if he payed attention, he could glean more details of the Teinlasse's new business venture. He looked away, catching the gaze of his oldest friend, seated not too far away. Half of Saeran's mouth twitched into a smile as he thought that Sidhion was here too, at least.

Saeran suddenly met his eyes and Sidhion had to keep the goofy grin off his face at his friend's smile. Instead he looked pointedly at Phantyni nearby, laughing loudly at another man's comment, and then rolled his eyes and popped a grape delicately into his mouth.

Some girls found Tyson Naïlo's ruggedness endearing, but Saeran was the devilishly handsome heartbreaker. A god of eloquence, and Sidhion's closest friend. He was so confident, so full of life and mischief. Sidhion sipped his wine idly as he thought about the odd epiphany he'd come to last week. At first, it seemed silly. Utterly fictitious. But Sidhion knew things had been different ever since the Lamara festival four months ago that Saeran was crushed he was too young to attend. Sidhion liked Saeran. A lot.

As the dessert was brought out, it would permissible to stand and walk around, so Sidhion stood up and meandered over a few chairs to sit with the Naïlo's as the elders mingled.

A sip of elderberry juice found Sidhion standing over the Naïlo brothers' table, and Saeran exaggerated a smile. "Sidhion. My friend," he ignored Tyson completely and raised his eyebrows, as if to say, 'Did you hear of Soraleigha's affair?' Sidhion would understand, right?

Sidhion rolled his shoulder, as if to say 'Saw it coming a mile away. If you think that's news, wait until you see Holone. Who do you think the father could be? Some are saying her cousin.' He sat down in the empty seat next to Saeran and said easily, "It's great to see the two of you. Have you killed your salad yet, Tyson?"

Tyson shot a glare at Sidhion, attacking his dish with exaggerated fervor.

Saeran relaxed his stiff posture and sat back. 'Classless filth.' He wondered why his father insisted on bringing Tyson to these dinners when he was obviously not fit to represent his family yet. If Saeran had his way, it could just be he and Sidhion reveling in this exchange of valuable information. "I am pleased to see you, as well."

"How have things been in House Naïlo?" He loved the way even relaxed, Saeran's posture was reputably perfect. He smiled cheerfully. Saeran was pleased to see him. Even if it wasn't necessarily in the same way he was pleased to see Saeran. A beautiful cake was placed in front of them, and both Sidhion and Tyson's eyes lit up comically. Sidhion deftly pulled the knife out of Tyson's grip and served him a piece. He had a feeling the dessert would be butchered otherwise. He started to primp his hair to say, 'it's such a burden to be a woman' but thought better of it at the last second, and just fixed his hair.

"Quite well. Our lilies are blooming wonderfully this season." Shoving his plate in the midst of their small tussle would be impetuous, rude even. As Sidhion finished cutting his own cake, Saeran leaned forward to gently take the knife from his hand. He would not be showing weakness by letting Sidhion serve him.

"That's-" Saeran's fingers brushed his own, and he had to cover up the blush that worked its way onto his youthful cheeks. He should have guessed Saeran would insist on doing it himself. "That's lovely to hear. I believe mother was just talking about coming by to see them," he said, sounding perfectly natural in spite of his feelings.

Saeran cut himself a modest slice with deft hands. Something made Sidhion falter, and it wasn't lost on Saeran. He scanned the room briefly to see if there was perhaps a new female in their midst. Was there some young minx nearby making Sidhion nearly loose his composure that he'd yet neglected to confide in his dearest friend about? _Scandalous._ "We're always happy to have you."

"You're sure I won't overstay my welcome?" Happy to have him. He almost laughed at Tyson's expression of 'never come over ever'. That child had some serious angst issues. He looked over his shoulder to follow Saeran's gaze. Was there something he'd missed? He looked at Saeran questioningly. Had he been too obvious? A friend shouldn't be harboring secret feelings for another friend. They told each other everything. He should tell Saeran. He took a bite of cake with new resolve. He would tell him tonight, after dinner.

"Sidhion," Saeran chided with a charming smile, as he tucked a napkin into his collar. "You know we could never tire of you." It was obvious from Tyson's reaction that what Saeran meant was 'I' not 'we', but in essence it was true. Mylaela would never turn away her dear friend's son, and in truth Saeran could always find a way to while away the hours when he was with Sidhion. Of all the pleasantries uttered tonight, this one was closest to true. The cake was superb.

Sidhion's eyes glittered. "Nor I you." He meant the entire Naïlo family, but it came off sounding more like he meant Saeran alone. Suddenly conscious of that fact, he shoved slightly too large a mouthful of cake into his mouth to be proper and regretted it immediately. He laid his fork on his plate in a way to say, 'excuse me', and stood to step outside where he could compose himself. Every step away from Saeran was like a needle through his heart.

_That was odd._ Saeran thought as he watched his friend stride out of the dining hall with too much cake in his mouth. The dinner was almost over, and Sidhion wasn't one to miss out on closing statements. As the ceremony concluded and guests were allowed to mingle and depart, Saeran ached to discuss poor Turin and his obviously depleting investments, but he realized Tyson didn't care for such gossip and Sidhion was not present to see the sweat on the nobleman's brow that told the whole story. Silently blowing an exasperated sigh through his nose, Saeran untucked his bib and stood from the table. "I trust you can find your own way, brother?" Without waiting for a reply he strode out after Sidhion through the glass doors he had disappeared through.

Tyson snorted at Saeran's 'fancy' talk and grabbed the plate that Saeran left behind. The adults who saw clicked their tongues distastefully, but no matter. Everyone knew Tyson was different. Mylaela appeared to be quite engaged in a conversation that was facing the opposite direction, but her pale cheeks made it apparent she'd noticed as well.

Saeran emerged on the patio and closed the door behind him quietly. Now that he saw Sidhion plainly, he knew there was something bothering him besides a large bite of cake. _What are you hiding from me?_ Saeran cleared his throat audibly and looked at his friend with an inquiring look.

He had let his face show his upset, as he hadn't thought anyone would come out to see it, and his breathing quickened as he chewed and beat himself up. Why did he have to act like such a fool in front of the very object of his desires? Saeran was more than that. He was his friend, his other half, his soul mate. He could see that now. He only wondered why Saeran didn't see it as well, because he certainly hadn't said anything if he had. Not to mention it was clear he had a predilection for women-

The moment he heard the signature throat clearing of Saeran Naïlo, his heart thudded painfully and he schooled his expression. Saeran had followed him. He gave a false smile of joviality. "Saeran. Is there a problem?"

"You tell me," Saeran said, unfazed by Sidhion's fake smile. "You're acting off," he said pointedly. _You cannot hide from me. Tell me what is going on._

Sidhion looked down. Was now a proper time? He had Saeran alone, and inquiring about his woes. He figured now was as good a time as any. His throat went dry, and his hands twitched. He blew out a sigh, and motioned for Saeran to come stand near him. "Actually, I need to talk to you about something. And I'd appreciate it if you would consider things before you say anything. That is all I ask." _Take as long as you need. _He hoped Saeran would understand. Reciprocate, probably not. But not drop his hand of friendship in disgust. Oh Tina, not that.

_Oh, it's a girl, _Saeran thought, trying not to smirk. He moved closer to his friend, doing his best to show Sidhion in his eyes that he was worth being trusted with secrets (which may or not be true. Depending on the juiciness of the secret). He desperately wanted to know what it was that had his friend choking and running away. "Alright. I will listen."

Sidhion wished the words would come as easily to him as they came to Saeran. Because this was a delicate matter. This could cause a dynamic shift in the nature of their relationship. Saeran looked as trustworthy as he did any day. But he also clearly wanted to hear what Sidhion had to say. "Lately I've become aware of a particular… attachment I've grown to possess. It's something that's very new to me, but looking at it now, it makes perfect sense. And I need to confront it or I fear I shall lose myself." He paused so that he could stop his rambling. His fingers were numb now, but he brought up a hands anyway. Here it went. Things would never be the same. He touched Saeran's cheek like it was made of porcelain and peered into his dazzling eyes. "I.. have feelings for you, Saeran."

Saeran had smirked eagerly to hear his predictions be verified, but his smile faded when Sidhion said an unexpected set of words. Saeran was sure he hadn't heard correctly. "You..." he swallowed. The hand on his cheek felt uncomfortably warm, as did the entire night. He was frozen in place, unable to believe what his only friend had confided in him. No, this couldn't be right. He'd seen Sidhion around girls. They loved him. And he, has was not... Saeran's eyes became clear as it all made sense. Of course Sidhion hadn't meant it. It was a trick. A game. _Clever boy. _He'd been lured out here for a practical joke, and he'd almost fallen for it. But Sidhion's movements were too bold and his claim just too outrageous. As if he was supposed to believe Sidhion was in love with him. _He's trying to make me uncomfortable._ He'd be damned if it wasn't working, but Saeran suddenly knew that he could turn the tables on Sidhion. He hated losing at these little pranks. Saeran would make Sidhion even more uncomfortable.

Saeran forged a sigh of relief and clapped a hand to Sidhion's, against his cheek. "Oh Sidhion... I'm so glad you finally said it."

Sidhion nearly jumped out of his skin. He had been waiting for something awful to happen. A slap. Or even more hurtful words thrown in his face. And instead, Saeran seemed.. pleased. And his hand was being pressed even more forcefully into the soft flesh of his beloved's cheek. And Saeran was smiling at him. And it was all so unreal there was no way it could actually be happening. Sidhion's entire body seemed to exhale. He rubbed along Saeran's cheek with his thumb. "Then.. then you feel the same way? Oh, you don't know how tormented I've been." It all made sense now. A connection like theirs couldn't possibly be one-sided. He wondered how long he'd made Saeran wait. He'd been so foolish. He should have been out with it from the get go. "Why didn't you tell me?"

This would be a challenging game to win, Saeran knew as his cheek was brushed affectionately. "I was terrified. How could someone like you love someone like me?" he said, in the same sweet voice that worked so well on ladies. He grinned at Sidhion, as if to say, 'You better believe I'm not backing down from this.'

Sidhion's eyes softened. "Fool." He fluidly moved in and wrapped his arms around Sidhion's waist, holding him closer to his heart. "You're a much better man than I." He said, with all the passion he'd ever felt in his short life of seventy-one years, and leaned his head onto Saeran's shoulder. This felt so right. And it was okay now, because he'd confessed, and Saeran had as well, and now they could simply be together. He giggled in his bliss.

_Oh, you're the fool, Stilmyst._ Saeran thought as he returned the embrace. It was too intimate for his liking, but it was yet too early in the game to give in. He only held him firmer. And that little giggle was much too over-the-top. He didn't believe it for a second. "Come to my house tonight," Saeran whispered into his ear, in a voice he was sure could make Sidhion's face pale.

Sidhion shuddered, and all the color bled out of his face. Did Saeran really just-? It was much too soon for anything… wasn't it? And yet the thought of spending the night with Saeran, even just embracing each other in bed, was something he couldn't- and wouldn't- pass up for the world. Besides, it's not like this was all that new anyway. They'd known each other since they were born, and they had both clearly felt the same way for a while. So it wasn't really so large a jump after all. "Okay…" he whispered back at last, his cheeks now tinged with pink. He looked at Saeran's face adoringly. _You can have whatever you want of me._

Saeran was somewhat impressed by his friend's commitment, but he knew Sidhion was losing strength. He took a step back, hands on his friend's waist. "What's wrong? We've had sleepovers before," Saeran said coyly. He leaned in close and touched foreheads with Sidhion. "You're flushed. Why, I could just eat you up," he muttered with a smirk.

The very implications of that statement… and he was sure Saeran knew just how provocative it sounded. With a sharp intake of breath, he tried to swallow, but was unable to. "N-nothing is wrong." _Everything's right. It's too much._ "I'll come over." He closed his eyes and simply felt Saeran's hands upon him, Saeran's skin on his. He stifled a tremor at it all. "Y-you're doing things to me..." _When you say things like that._

Saeran tutted. "I'm sorry, Sidhion. Am I making you uncomfortable? Is it too much?" Saeran asked with a smirk._ That's right. Give up._

And Sidhion was on fire. He needed to try harder to match Saeran's level of passion. It wasn't fair of him to confess and start this between them without being equally as committed. So he trailed the hands on Saeran's sides slowly upward, nuzzling his cheek and whispering in his ear. "Please." He could take it all in stride. "There's so much more I'd like to do to you."

Saeran's heart fell through his stomach as he lost the upper hand. He cleared his throat again to maintain composure, but Sidhion's breath tickled his ear and made him nearly want to call it quits. If he could hold off until they returned to Naïlo Manor, maybe Sidhion's resolve would weaken. "Shh." Saeran said, taking a brisk step back and pressing a finger to Sidhion's lips. "Save it for my bedroom."

Taking Saeran's hand in his, Sidhion kissed his finger sensually. He smirked. "I'll see you there." The fire was quickly traveling south and he couldn't wait to get to the Nailo household. Running a finger along Saeran's jaw as he'd wanted to all night, he said warmly. "Wait up for me." At last he tore himself away from his Saeran and stepped back. "I'll go fetch my parents.."

Saeran nodded stiffly, forcing himself to maintain composure until Sidhion left the patio, at which point he nearly collapsed over the railing with a shudder. His hand felt soiled. Saeran reassured himself by thinking that Sidhion's touches and remarks were mere teases. They must have worked wonders on the girls at Lamara, because even he felt flushed. But Sidhion would falter soon enough, if he just kept up the bluff. Taking in a deep breath of fresh air for confidence, Saeran righted his posture and re-entered the dining hall.

The walk home didn't seem long enough. Saeran avoided eye contact with his brother after the embarrassing exchange on the patio at dinner. Tyson didn't want to talk about what he deemed "fancy stuff" anyway. According to their mother's disposition, he had done something terribly wrong after Saeran left. Saeran didn't really care what. He just hoped no one would walk into his room tonight.

Tyson was very grumpy. He couldn't believe his luck. He hadn't said anything to anyone. Just sat in the same chair the entire night. And Saeran wouldn't even look at him, which was just as well. But by the time they reached their estate, with no one talking, it was much too silent for his taste. "Where did you go?" he asked Saeran once their went to a different room.

Saeran waved off his brother's question. "Oh, nowhere," he said, but his ears turned back ever so slightly. The truth of the matter was far too difficult to explain, and he didn't want Tyson to misunderstand. "After finding out about the dewmead subsidy, I needed some fresh air."

Fancy talk. Tyson turned up his nose and walked to his room. He didn't need this.

Sidhion was on cloud nine, and his parents noticed. However the only explanation he offered was that he was going to stay the night at the Naïlo's. Which his parents were more than happy about. Their son was great at making ties with the other young nobles. If only he were better friends with little Vira… Sidhion had rushed them home and twirled Phantyni in a dance in the kitchen. Then he grabbed a set of clothing and kissed their cheeks before he flew out the door and all but ran to the Saeran's home. He was nervous and excited all at once, but he knew Saeran was probably feeling the same way. So it was fine. They would figure this out together. Luckily they only lived five minutes away from each other. The perks of living in the upper district.

Sidhion reached the household in record time and caught his breath out front. He almost couldn't sort out his hair because his fingers were shaking so much. Then he approached the door and knocked. The longer he stood and waited, the harder it was to breathe.

Tyson departed with such an air that Saeran was glad his mother would obviously be talking to him later. He sighed and retired to his room. Sidhion would be here soon to continue their battle of wills. He undid his ascot and a couple of the higher buttons on his doublet, when all too quickly there was a knock at the door. He'd explained to his parents that Sidhion would be over, but it was still probably best for him to answer the door rather than a servant. Sidhion might try to raise the stakes by letting slip something humiliating to another elf in his home. So he slid lazily down the stairs and opened the front door with a sly smile. "Sidhion."

Sidhion grinned, immediately noticing where Saeran's shirt was slightly unbuttoned before he bowed gracefully and was welcomed in. "I missed you," he teased, mostly serious. He eagerly stepped closer to his friend, his fingers sliding from Saeran's deliciously bare collarbone downward. "Now that we've shared with each other, it's difficult to be away…"

Saeran leaned back jerked his head around the foyer to double check that is was empty. Thankfully it was. Saeran grabbed him by the forearm, pointedly ending contact on his chest, and pulled him out of the doorway to shut the door. "I wouldn't want you to catch cold," Saeran joked. Then he looked intensely into Sidhion's eyes. "Come to my room with me," _And out of the area where other people could see this game and misunderstand._ "Please." he added sensually.

_Forceful_. Sidhion's heart leapt. The smoldering look Saeran was giving him, the hand that had so assertively taken his. At Saeran's 'please', his knees almost buckled out from underneath him. His body temperature doubled. He then smiled seductively and laced his fingers through Saeran's. "You can have whatever you like if you say it like that," he said in a hushed tone. He pulled Saeran up the steps he'd traversed a thousand times to Saeran's bedroom laughing merrily.

Saeran turned his face away to hide a gag. Sidhion had apparently gained resolve since they left the dinner party. Saeran didn't want Sidhion to know, but he'd never even held a girl's hand the way he was holding Sidhion's now. He realized then that Sidhion was more experienced, and would probably have no trouble moving in for a kiss, even if he KNEW it would be Saeran's first. That thought made the hair on Saeran's neck stand up. It could be that he was outmatched in this game.

Saeran yanked Sidhion into his room and slowly shut the door, looking over his shoulder at his friend. He latched the door and raised an eyebrow.

"Oh." At the click, Sidhion flinched. _Tina Tina Tina.._ He tried to act confident. So he hadn't done anything like this before, so what? Neither had Saeran. Sidhion was older, but Saeran seemed to want to be in control, if the way he had handled his arm was any indication. He moved toward the bed and sat down on the edge, looking at Saeran expectantly. _Come here.._

Saeran started to sweat when Sidhion came and plainly sat on the bed. _Not subtle_. He walked over to Sidhion, without breaking eye contact, and put a hand on his chest to push him down.

Sidhion was now sprawled on Saeran's bed, Saeran standing over him, and he was overcome with nervousness yet again and he visibly swallowed, trying to rise back up onto his elbows with Saeran's hand still on his chest. Something about being here in this position.. "S-Saeran.." _This is too fast. This is TOO FAST_. They'd only just accepted everything hours ago, and they had the rest of their lives to progress. Would Saeran be upset if he-?

Saeran tilted his head with a smirk. Victory was within grasp. "Yes, my love?" he said as he moved one knee onto the bed. _Give up, Sidhion_

_He knows exactly what he's doing_. Sidhion thought with a shudder. "We might be.." Would he really regret this in the morning? Maybe not. He shook his head. _This is fine._ He licked his lips and leaned up to grab Saeran's shoulders, pulling him down so he was hovering above him. "Never mind," he spoke staring into Saeran's eyes with every bit of longing and desire he had kept hidden. He entangled one of his legs with Saeran's and put a hand on Saeran's lovely cheek, playing with the well-groomed tresses.

Saeran barely caught himself he was so surprised by Sidhion's sudden change of manner. Suddenly they were both on the bed and Sidhion was licking his lips. Saeran struggled to maintain composure. He couldn't understand why a moment ago Sidhion looked ready to run home, and now the look in his eyes was nothing but confident. Saeran was trapped. He couldn't back away now. Even if he was ready to cave, Sidhion had wrapped a leg around him. Saeran wanted to back away and convince Sidhion to stop, stop holding him and staring at him, but that would be failure. The unspoken rule of the game was that they had to advance closer each round, and it was Saeran's turn. He had no choice but to slowly lower himself on his arms. He couldn't look Sidhion in the eye without revealing how uncomfortable he was, so he looked at the lips that he had to approach. Carefully.

Sidhion's heart was throbbing in his chest, in his head. Never in his wildest dreams.. He wished Saeran would look at him, but he was staring at his lips longingly, and he supposed that was good enough. He closed his eyes and moved up to press his lips softly to to Sidhion's.

With Sidhion's hand on his cheek and the bed beneath them, Saeran was confident the situation was too intimate for Sidhion. But then he closed his eyes. Saeran assured himself it was only a bluff, and continued his descent. _I'm gonna do it, Sidhion. I will. So stop. Stop. STOP._ Saeran started to panic. He wouldn't dare kiss him, right? Right? They touched noses, and Saeran faltered. He couldn't move any closer, but Sidhion still was...

Time slowed and Saeran's heart stopped. Sidhion's pursed lips brushed his, ever so slightly, but it sent such energy through Saeran's body that he shivered, and finally he moved away with a sigh of defeat. Saeran straightened his arms and hung his head, unable to look in his friend's face.

"Fine, you win." He chuckled with relief. At least it was over now.

The second their lips touched, fire coursed through Sidhion's veins and pools in his heart and his stomach and told him this was where he was meant to be. If he had any inhibitions before, they were gone now. He finally found someone who he belonged with, his search was over, and he smiled in bliss when all too soon, the feelings were ripped away. Saeran pulled back. Why..?

Then Saeran hung his head. Was he shy? His heart stopped. Did he change his mind? Sidhion had messed something up and now Saeran wanted nothing to do with- 'Fine, you win.' The words rung through his head for Tina's sake, it just didn't make any SENSE. He felt cold. "…What?" he asked softly, confused beyond belief, but with an inkling of understanding that he refused to accept from fact until he heard it uttered from Saeran's lips. Saeran's soft, warm, unbelievably PERFECT lips.

Saeran was ashamed. He hated losing, but Sidhion was the stronger man in this respect. He briskly pushed Sidhion's leg away and got back to his feet. "You win." he muttered again. Just like Sidhion to further embarrass him by forcing Saeran to repeat the statement of his defeat. "I can't do it. So good job."

As a master of reading Saeran, and a surprisingly introspective elf besides, it dawned on him (even in his emotionally drawn and hormonally charged state) that this had all been one big game to Saeran. He had thought they were joking. He had though Sidhion's confession was a joke. He was crestfallen. He should have known. He fell so easily into it. Wishful thinking. And now he had the humiliating revelation that he was lying on Saeran's bed, desperate and lusting like some whore for a man that didn't have any more feelings for him than he did for his snotty younger brother. He sat up, hanging his head with his eyes closed and swinging his legs off the side. After a minute of silence he turned smiled at Saeran, his eyes carefully guarded. "Fool. And I thought you could win any challenge." It wasn't the first time they had played a daredevil game. It was simply the first time Saeran had lost. And the first time Sidhion hadn't realized that were playing. He hoped Saeran couldn't see the sheen over his eyes. He needed to leave. The room had become suffocating and taunting and he couldn't hear anything other than Saeran's proclamation.

Saeran ran his fingers through his hair and shuddered a sigh of relief. That game was getting much too intense for him before he finally caved. They'd nearly... Saeran felt his ears heat up and he sat on the side of the bed, a few inches from his friend. At least now they could have a normal evening together.

"Well you finally got me, I suppose." he said with a smirk. He looked at Sidhion again. He didn't look quite as happy as he should, having completely bested Saeran for the first time. His commitment to the game was so absolute that there were moment when Saeran wondered if... He shook his head and looked away. "Well then. Now that that's over, we can discuss the event at dinner this evening. I'm not sure if you noticed the tension between Fellmir and the king tonight..."

Sidhion didn't hear a thing Saeran said.. He stared at his knees as he spoke up suddenly. "What if it hadn't been a game?" he nearly whispered. "What if I really had feelings for you?" He turned and looked at Saeran then. "Would you hate me? Would you wish to never see me again?"

Saeran was cut off. He thought for a second about what Sidhion said and scoffed at the thought. "If you were serious?" He met Sidhion's eyes with his own careless gaze and was taken aback by the intensity in his friend's expression. It was just a game. Right? Were those...tears? "Sidhion... What are you saying?"

Sidhion's expression hardened for a second. Then fell again. He buried his head in his knees and wrapped his arms around them. The next part he did whisper. He half hoped Saeran wouldn't hear, because he was afraid of what he would say in response. But he knew that he would, and he knew that Saeran needed to. "That I am serious." He tensed.

Saeran was concerned about his friend, who was obviously upset. Then he heard the apparent reason why, and the world crashed around his ears that had been listening so carefully.

"You're... what?"

Sidhion. Feelings for him. It hadn't been a game. Saeran stood up from the bed quickly, backing away from the spot where Sidhion was curled up. Oh how he'd embarrassed himself. It wasn't a game. He'd told a boy that he loved him and led him on his own and pushed him on the bed and nearly kissed him. Saeran's face turned red. He raised a hand, shaking with rage, to his mouth. "What... what have you done?" Saeran seethed. He wiped his lips with the back of his hand, glaring at Sidhion. "We were perfect! You ruined everything."

Sidhion heard all the words he had expected to hear. Watched him rub away Sidhion's touch and very essence he'd so lovingly left upon him. And somehow it still stung worse than he ever thought it could. It didn't matter if he was rich and handsome and cunning and generous, and all the girls wished he would look their way. It didn't matter that he'd been Saeran's only true friend since the time he was born. Because now he was worthless. Now he was sickening. Saeran didn't want any part of him. And he rejected Sidhion's heart, the purest part of him. He felt broken. He WAS broken.

He looked at Saeran glumly, the light in his eyes all but vanished. "I did." With that he stood and, grabbing the clothing he'd set on the ground, flipped open the lock and left.

Saeran strode over and slammed the door after him. Sidhion left before he could demand that he do so. Saeran felt, more than betrayed or violated, bitter. For so long he had a friend, a companion. Sidhion had meant a lot to him, he realized. But not like THAT. He'd lost his only confidant, and it stung so much. He was furious. _It's all your fault_. his head screamed, glaring at the door. To think that they'd embraced. Held hands. Saeran spat at the ground and turned away. All he could do was storm around his room and pull at his hair in frustration. How dare Sidhion put him in this position. He spent the night in his room, furious, humiliated, and most of all, alone.

Sidhion scampered down the steps, unable to see more than blurs of color, but his muscle memory of the Nailo household orchestrating his movements. He was moving through the second parlor toward the exit when he slammed fully into something.. someONE. Falling back and landing awkwardly, he rubbed his eyes and looked in front of him to see Tyson staring down at him confusedly.

"Sidhion?" His eyes seemed to be peeling Sidhion's skin away. "My brother should be in his bedroom, if you're looking for him," he said politely, as etiquette had been his two hour lesson from his parents as punishment. At the name, Sidhion gasped in pain. Tyson looked worried.

"I need to.. go.." Sidhion managed- he was DYING- and he scrambled to his feet and ran past Tyson out through the door.

He didn't know what had happened or when Sidhion had arrived, but he wondered idly if Saeran was the cause. He shrugged. None of his business. Then he continued on his quest (to go find some feral Holimion bunnies).

Sidhion stared at his ceiling as he lie on his bed. His eyes were wet. Would he cry? That wouldn't change anything. Self pity wouldn't make Saeran return his feelings or even return his friendship. He wiped his eyes. No, he was Sidhion Stylmist! He sat up suddenly. Holimion wasn't built in a day. Stylmist Woodworks took centuries to culminate. Heck, even the spells he had begun learning took months to master, at least. And he KNEW it wouldn't be that easy to win the heart of Saeran Naïlo. But that didn't mean it couldn't be done. He grinned optimistically.

He would simply have to show Saeran that he was worth falling in love with.

And he would spend as long as he needed to.


	4. Lamara

Mylaela fixed Tyson's hair for the sixth time before standing back to look at her two sons side by side. Tyson was in a sour mood. He didn't want to go to what he deemed as a stupid ritual, and he certainly didn't want to go with Saeran. Like he would try to court a girl with his older brother watching over his shoulder.

"You ready, my darlings? Phantyni is coming over with her son, and we'll all walk together." Lamara festival was tonight, all night, and her sons were going to be the most dashing of all.

"Don't act so cross." Saran muttered to his brother, all adorned in unnecessarily complex garments, as was procedure. "This will be good for you. I daresay you might enjoy it. At least some of it."

"It's weird," Tyson grumbled back, fidgeting with the cuffs on his sleeves that restricted his wrists too much for his liking. "How would you know, this is only your second." And Tyson found it hard enough to get along with all the other elves his age who wanted to be wizards and sorcerers. He couldn't fathom being stuck with them for an extended period of time.

Mylaela was in the next room greeting her friend, with what Tyson could tell was a fake smile. Phantyni's son wandered in.

"Just relax." Saeran nodded in acknowledgement at the newcoming youth. "Sidhion," he said, with convincing respect.

Sidhion grinned, bowing with a flourish. "Saeran, my favorite little noble. Are you prepared for your second festival? I seem to recall you were quite.. fruitful last decade. I imagine you're ready to try something different this year?" he asked pleasantly, dancing his fingers over Saeran's shoulder suggestively.

Saeran swallowed and took a step back, unwilling to let Tyson notice how uncomfortable he was.

"I wouldn't count on it. Not this year at least." His slender frame straightened proudly as he shifted attention from himself to his brother. "This will be Tyson's first festival. He's less than enthusiastic."

Tyson shot his brother a quick glare. Sidhion chuckled. "Worth a shot." He turned and appraised Tyson's appearance, and nodding approvingly.

"First time? Oh, but a handsome one indeed. You'll make a fine suitor." He lifted a hand to ruffle Tyson's hair.

"Thank you, Sidhion," Tyson said, through clenched teeth, trying to remember what his mother told him about being proper.

Saeran shot a quick smirk at Tyson as he peered into the foyer. "Mother, I think we're ready." Tyson had been sufficiently humiliated now. Truthfully, Saeran would rather get moving to find some company preferable to Sidhion.

Mylaela returned to the room and clasped her hands together, Phantyni just behind her. Sidhion was undoubtedly stunning with his gleaming blond curls, but she felt confident that Phantyni was envious of the work she had done to clean up her sons. "You all look lovely. Shall we be on our way?" she asked in more of a command. The five of them left Naïlo Manor to walk down to where the festival was being held. The entire city was in high spirits as the blossoms above, like so many thousands of stars, glowed and twinkled in the gentle night breeze. Finely dresses elves bustled around as the community prepared for the many parties to take place later that night.

Mylaela held her head high. Her sons were going to the best of the best. She continued her idle chatter while Sidhion turned to the brothers again, easily walking backward with his arms folded neatly behind him. "Oh you two are going to love it. If you stick with me, I'll show you the best parts. My father funded the entire show this year."

"I hope you'll understand if we find other ways to entertain ourselves." Saeran swiftly dealt a loquacious blow to put Sidhion's excitement down. "Can't forget what the night is really about, can we, Tyson?"

"Sure." Tyson nodded before looking away. Normally he wouldn't so readily agree with something his brother said. He always felt uncomfortable around Sidhion for some reason, and he didn't want to talk to him any longer than he had to.

Sidhion frowned, before his signature grin reappeared. "Of course, you two have a good time." He leaned in closer to Saeran's ear. "Should you _need_ me, you know how to find me."

"I... That won't be necessary." Saeran's ear prickled at the other boy's breath and he had to suppress a shudder. When Sidhion finally moved away, Saeran stepped closer to his brother. "Well that was uncomfortable," he muttered. "But it's to be expected. You'll soon find the price of excellent looks is unwanted attention. If you grow to look anything like me, that is."

Tyson snorted, manners forgotten when no longer in earshot of anyone besides Saeran. "We share the same blood, of course we look alike."

"Not quite, brother." Saeran said with a smirk. "You'll see, once we arrive at the festival. I'm positively irresistible."

Leave it to Saeran to be so vain. "I can resist you. I'm sure plenty of women can."

Saeran chuckled at Tyson's little joke. "You'd be surprised." The golden tongue he had been born with was useful to him not just for talking his way out of trouble, but also into the hearts of naive girls. "Why, through the course of the night, I could have any woman I like professing her love for me."

Tyson bit his cheek to stifle a laugh at the idea of someone genuinely professing their love for his brother. "Any woman? Do you actually believe that? You realize your personality would have to appeal to them."

By this time they were just reaching the ceremony, and music and laughter could already be heard. Many other young elves were making their way through the entrance, most accompanied by their parents. Including the king himself, and his radiant daughter, Princess Vira.

"Irrelevant," Saeran scoffed. "Dance a girl around and tell her sweet things, and personal integrity ceases to matter. You'll see." He stood up straight in presence of faces he recognized; pedigreed faces.

"Unbelievable." Tyson straightened slightly to mimic his brother, and turned away when Vira made eye contact and gave him a huge smile, pretending he hadn't noticed.

Mylaela stopped at the opening and bent over slightly as she bid her sons farewell, despite the fact that they'd passed her in height a decade ago. "This is where we say our good byes; I can't go any further. Remember, Naïlos are dignified and well-bred. Make us proud, and don't forget your manners." And with that, she hurried off to catch another leaving parent.

Tyson looked at the entrance with a mixture of anxiety and dread.

Unsympathetically, Saeran gave him a quick shove in the small of the back. "Don't toddle, brother." he whispered, forcing him into the festival. At once the heavy scent of Lamara blossoms filled the air when they stepped into the beautifully glowing ballroom.

Tyson gawked at the scenery, tables, fountains, and crystalline decorations that all seemed to glow an eerie blue. The smell was familiar, but he'd never sensed it so potent. He could see that he was one of the youngest participants, and immediately felt the effects of the large crowd. He moved away from the entrance and tried to find somewhere that was quieter. "Remind me what about this I'm supposed to be enjoying," he said to Saeran as he maneuvered around the dancing taking place.

Saeran sighed and went after his brother, still intent on making him behave the way he felt a Naïlo should. "It's about courtship," he explained, exasperated. "I know you at least understand the physical benefits that can be experienced with a woman. Persue them."

Tyson looked around. There were plenty of lovely females laughing and dancing, but he hadn't the slightest inkling what to say to any of them. He folded his arms. "I'll just stay off to the side." At this point, a girl walked by and gave Saeran a smile as she passed.

Saeran's demeanor shifted suddenly from frustrated to pleased as he bowed to the passing female, ending with a flirty wink. When she giggled and looked away, he turned quickly to Tyson again. "What did I say? Any girl at all."

Tyson shook his head at both the girl's guilelessness and his brother's not so charming ego. His eyes roamed around the room until they landed on the politely smiling profile of the princess. This was her first Lamara Festival as well. "Vira would never fall for your charades."

"Vira?" Saeran gazed, eyebrows raised, at the princess across the room. He hadn't gotten a good look at her since they were very young. She'd grown into an undeniably lovely woman. _And tonight she shall be mine._ "Very well. I will prove you wrong."

Tyson's eyes widened. He put a hand to stop his brother. "You're joking. You're not actually going to try, are you?"

Saeran had already turned towards her, eyes set on his prize. "If you'd rather have her to yourself, I suppose won't." he said with a sneer to Tyson.

Tyson groaned. "Fine. Do whatever. I'm going to get a drink." Tyson strode away, completely oblivious to the few elves who had taken notice of him and tried to strike up conversation as he walked by them.

Saeran took a brief moment to adjust his garments before moving with a careful pointlessness near the table where Vira sat. When he 'noticed' her, he faigned a gasp that led into a charming smile. "Your highness! Why, I barely recognized you. You look absolutely astonishing tonight."

Vira, annoyed that he'd interrupted her mid sentence, said, "Barely, Saeran? I suppose that's why you came over here from across the ballroom to talk to me." Everyone here knew exactly who she was. Her friend chuckled.

Saeran's charming smile slipped. Her response was so unfemininely cynical. At some point over the years since he'd last spoken with her, Vira had developed a sharp tongue of her own. And to add insult to injury, the other beautiful girl at the table was now laughing at him. The first strike was a humiliating miss.

Saeran coughed into his fist, and attempted a recovery. "So, that wasn't as smooth as I'd hoped? I'm sorry, Vira." He said this with an abashed smile, hoping to adapt a better approach for earning her trust, and her heart. "I just... well, I find it hard to be myself in a presence like yours."

"I don't know," Vira said, tilting her head and fluttering her eyelashes. "Silly pick up lines and dishonest compliments; you don't seem to be having a very difficult time 'being yourself'." What a jerk. Extremely attractive, but much too aware of it for her taste. Was he honestly trying to feed her this nonsense?

Saeran shrugged with a slight smile. "Silly, perhaps. Dishonest? Absolutely not. You do look stunning tonight." The challenge of Vira's intellect was almost more exciting than the prospect of his reward. But he persisted nonetheless.

Vira held herself proudly, as a dignified princess should when being ogled, but the Lamara blossoms' scent was making her dizzy. The single one she had placed in her hair wasn't helping. "Thank you for the compliment, Saeran, but I will save you the trouble." She gestured between them. "I'm not interested. Find some other hapless girl to play gentleman with."

Saeran glanced at the other girl, and was momentarily confused. 'Not interested.' Oh. "Please forgive me, then." He bowed graciously, then quickly strutted away. It wasn't worth the time to chase after a girl who was... well, more like Sidhion than like himself.

Saeran retreated to find himself a drink, while he contemplated. Vira was a challenge. How was he supposed to look Tyson in the eye when his brother had unwittingly challenged him to an unwinnable fight?

From over his glass of champagne, Saeran cast stray, frustrated glances as Vira and her companion. No. No way was the princess of his native kingdom more interested in the fairer sex. It was all a ruse. He'd come up with some plan to win her over.

Vira smoothed her clothes down and glanced at her friend seriously for all of three seconds before they both erupted into a fit of giggles. "Some boys…" She felt his eyes on her, but opted to simply put him out of her mind for the remainder of the night. She was not a plaything.

Tyson wandered over to his brother, his footsteps a slight bit more staggered than their previous encounter, and his cheeks pink with intoxication. He let himself fall into the seat beside. "Did she profess her love?" his speech was surprisingly lucid, and the smirk on his face said that he knew it exactly how it had gone.

Saeran did not need to also be humiliated by his inept brother. "Have I forfeited yet?" he asked with a grumpy expression. Saeran was formulating a plan. "The night is young." He sipped his drink and glanced at Tyson, who was staying in his chair with some difficulty. "You're drunk already, brother."

Tyson waved dismissively and laughed, attracting the attention of a few elves nearby, who sized him up. "She absolutely rejected you."

One of the girls came up and said forwardly, "excuse me, would you like to dance?"

Saeran turned his attention away from Vira long enough to look the newcomer up and down. Maybe what he needed was a short distraction; a confidence boost from this fair little creature. "My, my," he said with a smile before Tyson could respond. "It would be my pleasure to dance with a blooming flower like yourself."

Tyson looked incredulously at his brother. Not that he particularly wanted to dance. At all. Ever. But really?

She flushed and hid her grin behind a hand as her eyes darted to Saeran and back to Tyson again unsurely. She appeared to be closer to Tyson in age. Her eyes sparkled at the prospect of dancing with the elder Naïlo. She said politely, "Erm.. I was actually asking your brother, but…" (Tyson smirked, they DID look alike)

He could see in her grinning eyes and her red complexion which brother she really wanted to dance with. Saeran considered, for a moment, letting Tyson have this one. But then he returned to his old self. He sprung from his seat and took her hands, swiftly pressing her close. "I must insist," he said simply, and swept her onto the dance floor.

She let herself be led with an awestruck look to her envious friends. She had one of the most attractive guys in the room insist on dancing with her, and his hands were wrapped around her waist.

Tyson stared after them, his surprise melting into anger. What the hell? Had she not just asked HIM to dance? Which, again, he didn't want to do anyway. This was so like his brother. He watched them dance for a second before he stood up, dignified, and stormed off in the opposite direction. He needed out of this heady hormonal cesspool.

Saeran's feet merely went through the motions. He had the attention of a lot of girls... but there was only one he wanted to look his way tonight. He danced with the young elf, who must have been about Tyson's age, snatching a peripheral glance at Vira's table whenever he could, without being noticed. "Tell me your name," he said to the girl, softly, but assertively.

"My name is Alea Fellmirr," she responded with a shy smile. He was so graceful and handsome and proper, she was swooning. Perhaps if she wished hard enough, this dance would never end. "And you are?"

It was a beautiful name. Saeran really looked at the girl's face for a moment, instead of sneaking peeks for the princess. Why couldn't he find Vira? "Saeran Naïlo." Alea was barely hanging on by a thread. Knowing he had complete control, Saeran let his arm holding her fall back suddenly, curving the helpless maiden into a dip. He followed her, leaning close enough to let the tip of his nose brush his.

It was too easy.

After a moment that probably seemed an eternity to her, Saeran pulled her up finally and cast his arm out to twirl her. Behind his charming eyes was a series of emotionless calculations. Girls like her were only for sport.

Vira walked in from her momentary reprieve on the balcony holding a glass of water and her eyes focused, unsurprisingly, as there was quite an audience, on Saeran holding a random girl intimately, her head just a few feet above the ground. She glared. Unbelievable. She pitied the one who found herself in his arms. She had half a mind to march up and tell him off, but he was doing exactly what she'd told him to do, so she let it go. She pivoted and left the area. Despicable.

Alea fanned herself as the dance concluded and she twirled to a graceful stop. The dip had been unexpected and had turned her poor brain to mush. She had sworn he was going to kiss her, but no. If he had, she wouldn't be able to speak coherently at all. "Th-thank you for the dance, Saeran," she curtsied and dared to meet his eyes. "Are you… Have you made plans for after the festival?"

Saeran blinked at the girl. She was adorably innocent, surprisingly outspoken, and pretty to boot, but tonight it just wasn't enough. He smiled hollowly at her hopeful face. "Sweet Alea," he said softly, "I'm afraid we cannot be together tonight." He did have other plans. Vira just didn't know it yet. Saeran pressed a finger to the girl's lips as she suddenly looked heartbroken. "Shh. I couldn't bear to take a girl as innocent and pure as you. So please don't cry," he continued at a whisper.

Alea shivered as he touched her lips and she averted her eyes. "I-It's alright, I understand." She was still crestfallen that her prince wouldn't finish this story with her, but she was the one who asked him to dance, and of course he already had plans. He was just being polite. She looked up at his handsome face one more time and swallowed. "Thanks for your time," she managed, and her feet brought her away.

Sidhion had been entertaining a confused male elf, and talking him up, when he like everyone else watched as Saeran coolly pushed Alea away. He tutted, crossing his arms. It sounded like he needed to have a little talk with his Saeran. He stepped up behind the noble and said, "It is so like you to make a scene. Can't you stand not being the center of attention for a night?" He tapped the tip of Saeran's ear.

Vira was in good spirits again, spinning flawlessly, when she spotted Alea who was barely keeping herself from breaking down in the middle of the crowd. Oh no. She REFUSED to let a man treat others this way. No kingdom of hers would allow this sort of behavior. She tore away to look for Saeran and give him an earful, but the Stilmyst boy had beat her to it. So she returned to Alea, who she'd shared a class or two with in the past, and comforted her, clipping her own Lamara blossom into Alea's hair.

Saeran tried to repress a frustrated sigh. "What is it to you?" he asked over his shoulder. "I merely agreed to dance with the girl. She was already infatuated. Why, I was only trying to let her down gently."

Sidhion chuckled warmly. "Women are lovely creatures, but they can be so trying, can't they?" He placed his hands on Saeran's sides and gently swayed. "Dance with me."

Saeran found himself, in a rare moment, at a loss for words. He moved Sidhion's hands away from him, unable to suppress a blush. "I'm not quite that desperate yet, Stilmyst," he managed. He obviously had the attention of the whole festival, so where was Vira? She should at least have something envious or spiteful to say.

"It's just a dance," Sidhion sighed as he was rejected yet again. His ears fell slightly at Saeran's words, but he perked up again at the color in his beloved's cheeks. "One day, Saeran," he spoke, refusing to distance himself by addressing him as Naïlo.

Sidhion considered it progress, but he knew not to persist, lest he drive Saeran further away. So he backed off, and grabbed a glass of wine to sip. "You seem to be having a rough night," he said honestly, without any dual entendre.

Saeran met eyes with Sidhion, mistrusting. Certainly he was right...but how could someone like Sidhion tell what thoughts were working in his own head? For a moment Saeran let go of pretenses and masquerades and gilded words, and he leaned against the bar with a vulnerable sigh. Today he'd come face to face with one woman he couldn't beguile to his whims, and it was frustrating beyond belief. He hated being wrong, but more than that he hated losing. He scanned the ballroom one more time for Vira's hair, festooned with blossoms as she wore it, and let his poised curls fall into his eyes. "Maybe just this once." Saeran agreed.

Sidhion watched Saeran's face with masked concern. He rarely showed anything he was thinking in his expression. Sidhion would have to search his eyes, which he didn't mind doing, for a glimpse of what the true Saeran thought. He really was remarkable. Then his mind caught up with Saeran's words, and Sidhion choked on his wine. "Excuse me?"

Saeran rubbed a hand over his face. He was getting too distraught over a challenge issued idly by his brother. Tyson couldn't even talk to a girl, let alone seduce the princess. Saeran began to think he never should have let himself be goaded by his pride. "I'm losing a game I never meant to play," he muttered, partly to Sidhion but mostly to no one, and dropped his hand, nearly defeated. Then he caught her. Vira had ditched the Lamara blossoms in her hair, but he still recognized her as she snuck away from the crowd, up the stairs somewhere. Hope lit his heart as Saeran realized she'd only been avoiding the ballroom all night.

"Your father payrolled the festival, you said?" Saeran didn't take his eyes off the spot where Vira's trailing skirt disappeared. "Tell me, Sidhion. What is upstairs?"

Sidhion hid the disappointment in his eyes as he followed Saeran's line of sight. So he was chasing after Vira. It made sense. But why did Saeran have to spot her just as he was beginning to share his inner thoughts? He wanted break his glass. Instead, he turned and smiled. "Just a view. A bewitched flute, a few tables. You can reach the blossoms too. And around the side is a VERY nice spot," he grinned lecherously. "Would you like me to show you?"

"That won't be necessary." Saeran stood up again, eyes gleaming. There was still time. He looked briefly at Sidhion, with a rare genuine (if malicious) smile. "Thank you," he said off-handedly, and swiftly strode away.

"Anytime." Sidhion whispered, his eyes following Saeran until he was out of sight. He finished his wine in one large gulp and his eyes scanned the ballroom, lackadaisically predatory once more. He found the elf he'd been buttering up earlier, and set off to make the most of his Lamara Festival.

Saeran ascended the steps, heart racing at the hope that he might have Vira on her own at last. On his way up he noticed a softly glowing blossom floating down from the canopy. He snatched at it idly, allowing himself to be momentarily distracted. Strangely, for a moment he thought of how the luminous orbs of pollen reminded him of the willful shine in Vira's eyes. Then Saeran acredited his sudden sentimentality to the overwhelming pheromones given off by this innocuous looking flower. _It couldn't hurt,_ he thought to himself, and he brushed the flower across his neck, then proceeded to carry it up to the balcony for Vira.

Vira sat on the railing, swinging her legs as she looked over what she could see of the forest and kingdom. They were very high up, and she could make out a few patches of sky where the stars were visible through the branches. The entire area was lit with the cool and eerie blue glow of the Lamara blossoms, and from her seat she could see millions twinkling on all the Lamara trees. They were such lovely flowers, but the hormones they excreted that so powerfully affected her kind were giving her headaches, and she had periodically been coming out for fresh air that only slightly mitigated them. She hummed along with the familiar tune that the flute was playing masterfully in the background as she reflected over that night. As most of the men here were far too intimidated by her power and stature to come within ten feet of her, she had only been approached once by one audacious Saeran Naïlo. And what a jerk. She still couldn't see how he and Tyson were related, as Tyson was so honest and gentle. Nothing like his charlatan of a brother. Poor Alea had finally just gone home, her night sufficiently wrecked. Vira was not a violent elf, but it was men like Saeran that made her want to break her pacifistic streak. And maybe also his upturned nose.

Saeran took a moment to soak in the beautiful figure of the princess, enjoying the freedom of the view by herself. She was even singing. He twirled the flower in one hand and used the other to lean against the railing, effectively ensuring that her only exit from the balcony was through him. "The night is lovely." Saeran said softly.

Any semblance of peace she had felt was gone, and replaced with irritation. Didn't this guy know when to give up? "Saeran," she said, as recognition. She would remain calm.

Saeran chuckled quietly. "You seem to be upset with me," he said, stepping forward. "I wanted only to give you this." With that, he tucked the aromatic flower behind her ear, brushing her skin minimally to show respect.

She seemed upset… He probably thought it was a sweet gesture. It was replacing the blossoms she'd used to clean up the mess he'd made with one of thousands readily available. She looked up at him. "Is there something I can help you with?"

So hostile. Saeran looked back in her eyes, He was trying to be charming, sure, but he'd cast aside his tricks. This was his last ditch effort. "I just want one fair chance," Saeran said softly. "One dance. Up here," he gestured to the flute. "Is that so much to ask?"

He offered his hand to her.

Her eyes widened slightly in surprise, and she considered his request. "I'm upset with you," she stated. She found she was less mad at him now that he was speaking like an elven being. "You hurt a very nice girl. And you had no reason to."

Saeran truthfully thought nothing of the girl being hurt. "It wasn't my intent to hurt her." He assumed she meant Fellmirr. "You didn't seem interested in dancing with me. I did nothing but accept a dance with her. It was never meant to hurt anyone." He knealt next to Vira to share the veiw. She didn't seem like she wanted to run just now. "So, if you spoke to her, tell me...did she say my dancing was anything less than graceful?"

Vira shook her head. "You're missing the point. You led her on. If I remember correctly, it wasn't your dance to accept." He didn't care at all. She wondered if it even registered to Saeran that he had hurt Alea. He clearly didn't understand what three minutes could do to one's self esteem.

She took a deep breath and wrapped her scarf around a second time, trying to fight her chemically enhanced instincts. Saeran was just a little too close.

Saeran tried to hide his confusion. Why did it matter so much to Vira? "I'll apologize to her, then." he said solemnly. "I will. After you dance with me."

Vira was hesitant still. And Alea had left the festival. "Why do you do that? You act one way when you're actually another. Can't you just be honest with me? Or in general?"

Saeran felt staggered. What value did honesty hold to her? Honeyed words were always kinder than harsh facts. She obsessed over the trivial enforcement of truth. "I told you, it's hard for me to-" Saeran stopped himself, as he realized tricky lines like that hadn't worked on Vira, and never would. She asked if he could be honest. Suddenly he wasn't so sure that he could. He sat in silence for a moment, contemplating.

"Honestly?" Saeran let a sigh escape his lips and stopped hiding, taking the risk that Vira might see the real person behind his eyes, and turn him away. "You're the only girl in the festival who wouldn't die to dance with me. And it's vexing. So please, Princess, give me a chance."

Vira faltered at the stark honesty. She studied his features, and knew that he was being sincere and genuine for the first time since she'd known him. She was relieved. She had worried that he couldn't be reached. She didn't hate him, but refused to entertain even the thought of a man who didn't take her seriously. Finally she gave a small smile, her perfect lips quirking up. She stood and presented her hand to him. "It's nice to finally meet you, Saeran Naïlo. One dance."

Saeran's eyebrows arched. He was shocked, but somehow it had worked. He sprang to his feet to take the princess's hand, brushing a kiss to it gently, and then carefully placed his hand on her waist to dance with her to the simple melody of the flute. "I'm truly sorry for the charade." he confessed. If he had known it would be so easy, this could have happened much sooner.

Vira felt a chill run down her spine as Saeran's skilled hands made their way onto her delicate frame. She had danced with plenty of men in different courts and social happenings, but she felt odd as she let herself be led gracefully around the rooftop. It was their own private dance floor, and true to his word, Saeran was an EXCELLENT dancer, and not so hard on the eyes, even at this proximity. "I may come to forgive you," she responded. "But when you speak to me, I'd prefer it be YOU I'm talking to."

It struck Saeran that Vira was making demands of him, when almost always it was the other way around when he was with a girl. He smirked. "Understood." Vira was amazingly fluid with her steps, and her gentle movements and subtle curves matched him remarkably well. Saeran never had a more fitting dance partner. Gliding around the almost quiet balcony with her, Saeran felt some unfamiliar happiness swell inside him, guiding his to move slower and closer with her. He assumed it was pride to have finally cajoled her into this dance, a victory even sweeter than he'd imagined.

At last the sweet song slowed to a rest, and the flute took a bow. Though she felt the effects of the flowers, and she could sense the heat radiating from Saeran's body, she had no desire to remain draped around him. Vira took her hands from Saeran's shoulders and stepped away, smiling distantly. "There is your dance. Now let us go our separate ways. Enjoy the rest of your night." She headed in the direction of the steps that returned to the festivities. Glancing over her shoulder she added wryly. "And stop following me." She had about as much as she could handle of this elf for one night. In fact, she was in the mood to simply return home and relax in a hot bath. She would stop and see that Alea was doing alright, and then retire herself.

Saeran's content smirk fell away as she was leaving him, and suddenly he became panicked. That's not how his pursuits ended. Girls didn't simply "go their separate ways" from him. "Wait," he gasped, showing a moment of failing composure. He reached for Vira's hand again, before his thoughts could keep up to him. When he realized how vulnerable and desperate his voice sounded, he quickly regained his cool by clearing his throat. He took a brisk step after her. "I'll let you go, I swear, Vira. But first..." he shot her a winning smile and recalled the offer Sidhion had given. "There's a very nice spot around the side, a view for just you and I." Saeran reached a hand up to brush the princess's soft cheek, leaning close.

Vira's face shot from amused to livid in all of half a second. She wrenched her hand away, but returned it just as swiftly across his infuriatingly charming cheek with a resounding SLAP! She couldn't hide the hurt expression as she bemoaned her own foolishness at giving this man the time of day. Her eyes pierced him a second longer before she shook her head and strode away angrily. "Pig," she muttered disgustedly.

Saeran staggered backward a good three steps. She attacked him! His eyes began to mist at the stinging pain in his cheek. Anger filled his blood when he realized that he'd been hit, for the first time in his life. No one should be allowed to strike him, not even a girl, not even the princess. Saeran pressed his hand gingerly to his burning cheek and opened his eyes, furious, to see that Vira had already stormed off. "I did not deserve that," Saeran muttered, upset. He sighed in frustration at the empty, quiet balcony. Even the enchanted flute seemed to be trapped in an awkward silence. Saeran didn't understand where he'd gone so wrong as to let Vira slip away without so much as a kiss. He was humiliated and furious at his defeat, but he realized it stopped being about Tyson long ago. Now when he'd gone all in, his pride was hurt and he was inexplicably crushed. Did she even like dancing with him? Why was she set on hurting his pride so? Saeran fell back into a chair and stared in anger at the floor. It would be an unprofitable festival for him this year, and he hated that thought. Something was bothering him worse than the humiliation of defeat and the frustration of the dance, but it was an unfamiliar sort of ache that he didn't understand and couldn't place.

Saeran finally left the balcony where he had faced an unquestionable defeat, rubbing his cheek as he went, avoiding the gaze of other party goers. There was little reason to be here now. After his dance with Alea and then Vira, no maiden in the ballroom would trust Saeran enough for him to try another hand at romance tonight.

Sidion had the boy, Drannor his name was, against the wall, and a stammering mess. Ripe for the picking, and playing right into his experienced fingers. It was by chance that he turned and noticed a dampened presence storming through the main floor towards the exit. Clearly, his presence was needed elsewhere. He started to move away when his sleeve was grabbed.

"S-Sidhion-"

"Shh. Have a lovely night." Sidhion gave him an affectionate pat on the cheek before whisking away. He wormed his way through the crowd toward his prize and managed to catch Saeran before he reached the door. "Well well, we seem to keep running into each other tonight." Sidhion grinned, stepping in his path. He immediately noticed the sore cheek his beloved was sporting, and felt a spike of anger towards the princess for damaging his friend. "Oh, would you look at that," he tutted. "This color won't do at all." He gingerly touched the area.

Saeran swatted at Sidhion's hand bitterly. He was impatient with Stylmist on a good day, and in this moment his jovial attitude and touchiness was the last thing Saeran needed. Saeran simply avoided eye contact and attempted to step past the boy.

No. Sidhion refused to let Saeran walk away. Not this time. He may be a tease, but he really did care. Stepping in front again, he gave an exasperated huff. He wasn't going to let hurt pride ruin Saeran's night. "Look, it's not as if I'm the one who marred that pretty face of yours. Stop being difficult." He grabbed Saeran's arm and pulled him to a seating area in a no nonsense mood, placing a chilled bottle against it.

Saeran grinded his teeth to maintain control over his temper. Not only was his ego being further reduced with Sidhion's babying, but now attention was being drawn to him and his obvious humiliation. The evening had turned rather sour. "Stop your coddling," Saeran insisted in a low growl. "I don't need this."

Sidhion couldn't say he was surprised that Saeran was acting so petulant, but it wouldn't phase him. He had a mission. A mission that involved a significantly happier noble, and a fantastic morning. "Oh please. Don't give me that. You know I'm trying to be helpful." He handed the drink to Saeran. "Hold it yourself then."

Sitting back, his eyes glittered as he spoke. "I take it you haven't had much success. I daresay I haven't either." Well, not the success he'd LIKE to have. He hummed melodically with the music. People did seem to be watching, as everyone had seen this attractive elf spinning Alea around the dance floor (ALWAYS made a scene), but Sidhion hoped to proved adequate distraction on both sides

Upon taking the bottle, Saeran did not press it to his face, but set it down and looked around the room, trying to mask his insecurity with a posture that demanded respect. "What does it matter to you?" Saeran asked cantankerously. The gaze of gossipers was not only infuriating, but it was starting to make him feel a little depressed. Finally, he accepted Sidhion's help in some form, and uncorked the bottle to take a sip.

Sidhion wanted to roll his eyes. Hopefully the drink would take the edge off. "What does it matter to me?" His own cheeks colored at the question. "Come now, you're a Naïlo. It's important that we of high blood stick together." He said dismissively. "Besides, like I said, I'd be here if you needed me." He winked. "The night is young. There's still plenty of time to turn it around."

Saeran's demeanor brightened slightly at the reference to his nobility. He balked at the thought of Sidhion's attitude when he offered his company earlier, but instead of make a snide remark on it he instead pressed his lips to the bottle. It was just a big joke to him anyway, and at least Sidhion was one person in the ballroom who could currently bear the sight of him. "It has been a trying night so far," Saeran said dismissively, sipping at his drink.

He could have cheered. Saeran's mood was picking up. Now if he was lucky.. "All things considered. Some Lamaras are better than others. Need I remind you of my first year?" Sidhion laughed and tried, REALLY tried, to pull his eyes from Saeran's lips as they slid dangerously over the head of the glass. Goodness.

"Actually, I don't recall the details," Saeran said with a chuckle, running a finger along the glass. "I was a little caught up in my own affairs, so to speak. Whatever became of that little hex you planted on some poor fellow?" He had to admit to himself that without chasing a girl, he found himself rather enjoying the lights and music and drink. He wondered what happened to Tyson.

Sidhion buried his face in his hands and groaned. "You know I don't have the best of aim when I've been drinking, and he happened to be standing right next to the Lamara sponsor… Long story short, there's a reason my family is funding this year." He shook his head. "And then he had the gall to scold me afterward. If he hadn't stolen my catch right out from under me, none of it would have happened anyway. It really was all his fault." Sidhion sniffed and crossed his arms.

Saeran propped himself with his elbow and rested his chin in his palm, grinning at Sidhion as he grew embarrassed. "I suppose that IS worse than my night," he said with a coy smirk.

Sidhion blinked incredulously and his heart leapt at Saeran's smile. He'd rarely seen him look anything other than annoyed. "I'm happy you can take joy in my suffering. We can't all talk our way out of a paper bag." He pointed threateningly. "Don't make me revoke my kindness. I'm a giving spirit."

Saeran scoffed into his drink. "I could talk my way through much more than a paper bag," he said off-handedly, alcohol apparently catching up to him. "Just, apparently, not getting slapped in the face."

Aaaand his ego was back. "By a princess too. Tell me, what is that like?" Sidhion put his head on his hands and leaned forward, into what some might consider personal space. "What could you possibly have said that offended the future leader of Holimion so much? Did you call her chubby?"

Saeran didn't seem bothered by how close Sidhion was, only dejected about his failed pursuits. His ears fell with a sigh as he looked away. "I tried too hard," he confessed. "For a second there, she was...tolerant of me. And then I pushed it. And that was it. She was gone."

_I tolerate you.._ His fingers twitched towards Saeran's to comfort him, but he wouldn't push his luck. "Hm. What's so great about her anyway?" Sidhion asked semi-bitterly. "So she's wealthy and royal. She seems pretty violent to me." He didn't care if she was the princess. How dare she strike Saeran's identity.

Saeran shrugged. "Honestly, I can't say. She's just another girl." _Is she?_ He finally looked back at Sidhion. "Hardly worth the effort," he said, obviously spurned.

"I couldn't agree more." Sidhion suddenly smiled. "Come now, that's enough drinking and moping. Let's get out there and enjoy ourselves." To hell with women. He stood and offered his hand jokingly.

Saeran glanced him over, ending on his outstretched hand. Here it was; the return of the reason why Sidhion made him so uncomfortable. His jokes were always went just a bit too far for Saeran's tastes. But then an odd thought struck him: that Sidhion put in the time to make him feel a little better and ease his hurts, while there was absolutely nothing the boy could do humiliate him any more than Saeran himself already had. So Saeran rolled his eyes and took his hand. "Not a terrible idea, Sidhion," Saeran said, tilting his head with a sly smirk.

Sidhion faltered. He nearly tripped. Because Saeran freaking Naïlo had just taken his hand of his own will. After another second, he snapped back to normal. "I only ever have marvelous ideas." He led Saeran to the dance floor, reveling in the consensual contact. "I should warn you. No one can dance like I can."

A challenge. "I'm sorry, Sidhion, to take advantage of a gentleman like you. But I can dance circles around anyone." Saeran insisted with a grin. Once on the floor, he took Sidhion's waist with his free hand and guided the other with confidence. All shame had disappeared with the prospect of a good-natured challenge. A Naïlo never backs down.

"Take advantage of.." Sidhion found himself pulled and twirled with a grace that he'd only ever watched Saeran perform with girls at a distance. Saeran was so sure in his footing that it was all he could do to let himself go.. No, he had to back up his mouth! He waited for Saeran to spin them again and he took the opportunity to slip free of Saeran's arms (he could kick himself) and reverse the roles. "I believe it's my turn." He positioned his hands and moved in perfect form, with a bit of a swivel thrown in. He'd only ever imagine holding Saeran like so, yet he'd never been successful in doing so for more than split second intervals.

"I..." Saeran spluttered for a moment, suddenly being taken and controled the way he might treat a girl. He hadn't been guided in a dance since lessons in his academy. He regained composure, and as Sidhion reeled him in close Saeran wrapped his arms around his shoulders, meeting Sidhion's gaze with a piercing determination in his eyes to come out of this one on top. "Not bad," Saeran said, tilting his head with a sly smirk.

"I'm not all looks you know." Sidhion brushed his hair to the side. He could feel the heat radiating from the arms that were hooked around his neck, and he was on cloud nine right now. Saeran was so close. He swallowed and continued to move in time, dancing with every ounce of skill he possessed. "You look good like this."

Dancing with Sidhion wasn't so unlike dancing with schoolgirls, Saeran thought as he noticed his nervous swallow. He could recycle a few tactics. "Sidhion..." Saeran said softly, removing one hand from the back of the boy's neck and trailing a finger along his jaw line to his chin. "You seem a bit nervous. There's no reason to be."

Sidhion's breath hitched, and he gave a nervous chuckle. "You're toying with me, Saeran." Oh Tina… He was the one who was supposed to make Saeran feel insecure, NOT the other way around. But how could he stop his body from responding when Saeran just undid him like this?

_Maybe so, but it's working_. With a finger still guiding his chin, Saeran let his eyes fall to Sidhion's lips, then looked back into his eyes. He touched foreheads with him, biting his own lip ever so gently.

_Did he just.._ Sidhion felt chills go down his spine, and he started to close his eyes when he was sure Saeran was going to close the distance between them. His lips, his eyes.

When he could nearly hear the boy's heart pound, Saeran swept his hands down Sidhion's arms and took control of the dance again, stepping back swiftly and twirling the young elf before taking him in close again, this time leading the steps.

And then they were moving again, and he felt Saeran's arms around him again, and the simple touch shouldn't have meant so much to him because he KNEW Saeran didn't feel anything toward him. And still he found himself being pulled and moved around, completely bending to Saeran's will, because he just didn't have it in him to resist. He opened him mouth to speak, but found himself short of breath and his throat uncharacteristically dry. "…"

Saeran couldn't suppress a chuckle. Poor Sidhion turned to putty in his hands. Victory. "I told you I was the better dancer," he whispered into Sidhion's ear as the song concluded and he lowered his arms.

Sidhion found himself reluctant to break apart from the touch he'd been craving for so many years now, but took a small step away nevertheless to compose himself. He shook himself, and then chuckled good-naturedly. "Perhaps, but you cheated." He wouldn't let Saeran get away with this.. He wasn't another one of his gullible women. He leaned in close to Saeran's ear and muttered, "I'll show you where I really shine."

At that, the music died down, and the committee attracted the attention of the crowd of youthful elves standing upon a small platform against one wall. "We hope you are enjoying yourselves. Welcome to Lamara Festival of Year…" They continued an introductory speech.

Sidhion rolled his eyes. "I have to make a statement." As the son of the benefactor.

"Oh?" Saeran was suddenly in an excellent mood after the dance. "Well, do what you must. It was...surprisingly pleasant to dance with you." Saeran began to walk away in search of a drink, believing his night with Sidhion to be over. His breath was somewhat heavy after dancing with such exuberance, and his cheecks a little flushed, but he was clearly better put together than Sidhion.

"What?" Sidhion grabbed his arm in a moment of fleeting panic. "You aren't leaving, are you?" He let his eyes roam over Saeran's luscious form, and wondered if this was what he looked like after.. He cleared his throat. "I'm nowhere near finished with you," he said in his most sultry tone.

"Please give a warm thank you to Sidhion Stylmist!" And now heads had turned and were looking at him.

As a pool of etheral light (by some arcane techinicians in the canopy over the ballroom, most likely) beamed down on the two of them, Sidhion clutching on to Saeran's arm, the room was uncomfortably quiet. Saeran was frozen. He assumed being in Sidhion's presence couldn't bring him any worse humiliation, but apparently he was wrong. He shook his arm away and briskly backed out of the spotlight.

Sidhion blew a silent sigh and walked to the stage, a large smile on his face which absolutely masked how miserable he was. Those who knew him chuckled at the exchange, and Sidhion's signature goofy grin. "Hello ladies, gentlemen. How's the festival so far?" The room was in an immediate uproar of cheering. "Well I'll keep it brief. Yes, my family played no small part in the festival this year. But don't worry about treating me accordingly. We WANTED to give back to the community, so please continue to enjoy yourselves, and remember" he lifted a glass. "All of the alcohol is on me." There was more happy and drunk cheering and laughter, and the crowd seemed enthralled by the attractive young son of the acclaimed owner of Stylmist Woodworks. Sidhion gave his vivacious bow, and sets of hungry eyes followed him as he strutted off the elevated platform.

Saeran found himself with a need to disappear. Once again he was bitter and frustrated. Lamara festivals were getting a bit too personal for his preference. While the crowd was distracted with Sidhion and Sidhion distracted with the crowd, Saeran grabbed another bottle of dew mead and snuck out onto one of the empty balconies. He could hear Sidhion speaking from afar, and didn't much care what the words were. The oaf brought the crowd's attention towards him yet again. It was as if Sidhion's only goal was to constantly lessen his ego.

Saeran folded his arms and leaned on the intricately carved railing, letting his anger dissolve as he gazed over the city.

Sidhion's eyes desperately swam through the crowd. This was NOT what he wanted. Where was Saeran? His Saeran? He had been so close. And now.. He skidded to a stop in front of one of his classmates. "Have you seen.."

"Saeran?" She questioned knowingly. She gave him a sympathetic look, and gestured behind her. "He went toward the balconies."

"Thank you!" he yelled over his shoulder. Not now. Not when he was so close to actually forming a real bond. He threw open the balcony doors and ran up the steps to find.. not Saeran. Just an embarrassed looking couple. He checked around again before cursing and dashing back out. Running to the next set of doors, he found a similar situation. At the third exit (why were there so darned many), he found absolutely no one. He groaned and turned back to continue looking when he ran straight into someone's chest.

"Pardon me," he mumbled, rubbing his nose. He started to step around the burly elf when he was grabbed and pressed against the railing.

"Heeeey," the mass leered. His breath reeked of alcohol. "You're S-Sid…"

"Sidhion," he completed.

"I hope you're enjoying the party. Would you mind stepping off? I'm in a bit of a hurry."

"You're really pretty."

Sidhion blushed.

"Well of course I am! Thank you for noticing." He picked up the wandering hands and tried to ease them off.

"No," the elf screwed up his face, as if he was having particular difficulty processing a thought. Which he probably was. "I mean, you're REALLY pretty. So pretty…" He reached too far South for Sidhion's liking. Sidhion clocked him in the jaw.

"And you're brawny and drunk. SO not my type." Sidhion shoved him away angrily.

Saeran eventually ran out of drink while staring out over the city. Vira was gone, Alea was gone, Tyson was gone, Sidhion was... well, an imbecile. He finally emerged, seeking to either refill his drink or return home, and looked down at the party. People had been disappearing, as was typical for Lamara, off to celebrate their vitality. Saeran snorted as he noticed that Sidhion had already found a new young man to garner attention from. It really didn't matter to him, Saeran supposed. But then, as he glanced once more at Sidhion and his new company, he noticed that it was not a mutual interest. Saeran left his empty glass on the railing and hurried down the stairs.

"Ack!" Sidhion yelped when his back struck the heavy wooden wall, and he was pinned by an unmoving chest. He squinted angrily through slightly blearier eyes. Could this night get any worse? He should have been less appealing when he'd given his speech. "I'll ask you again. Please separate yourself from me, or you'll regret it when you're sober." The eyes that stared back at him were so uncaring and lust-filled, it sent him a tremor.

The drunken youth seemed to take the lack of struggling or hands slapping his face as Sidhion acquiescing to his salacious desires. He planted his mouth on Sidhion's and began kissing (or the intoxicated openmouthed equivalent). Sidhion ripped his head away from the nonconsensual locking of lips. "That is repulsive."

There was a tap on the massive drunk's shoulder. "Excuse me, good sir, but I wonder if you retain the cognition to know who it is you have pinned to that bannister."

Saeran wasn't willing to let anyone push Sidhion around except for him. However, brute force was more... Tyson's thing. So he would find a way to dissolve the situation with the weapon he had: words.

Sidhion's ears twitched. That voice. It couldn't possibly be.. his heart skipped a beat. What reason did Saeran have to want to interfere? And why did he have to catch him in such a humiliating position? His body was still pressed flush against this behemoth's, and he was getting very uncomfortable.

The hefty elf turned at the new voice, albeit slowly. He looked Saeran up and down. Then he scoffed. "Duh. This is Sidhion Sti-" he had trouble remembering the rest of Sidhion's surname. "What's it to you?"

In a fleeting moment the burly stranger would have missed, Saeran locked eyes with Sidhion and gestured swiftly for him to get lost while his captor was distracted. "He's a man to be treated with respect, especially tonight, wouldn't you say? And what you're attempting to do is exert your churlish will over him by volume alone. Now, I daresay that is not an acceptable treatment for our party's benefactor, or any gentleman of noble blood."

Sidhion cautiously slid down and wiggled his way free, making haste for the populated area to the left as silently as his feet would allow, despite the ambience of music that more then masked simple footsteps. Shooting his friend a grateful looking, he made himself scarce.

The elf just stared blankly, his mind befuddled, before he appeared to have come to some sort of conclusion and snorted. "Yeah, sure. You just want him to keep you company tonight. He's…" he noticed the distinct lack of an attractive Sidhion in his midst. "Where in the hell!" Yelling an obscenity, he kicked the wood hard enough to chip it, and tore past Saeran ("cockblock"), shoving him angrily as he left to find a drink.

Saeran stumbled backwards, but righted his posture and brushed himself off without any hint of anger. Oafs resorted to strength, while superior men like him had wit. He glanced over the room of unfamiliar heads. Sidhion wouldn't be troubled by the giant fool again, and that brought a small smile to his face. "We're even," he muttered, and made to slip out of the festival.

"Saeran!" Sidhion launched himself at Saeran right outside the exit, wrapping his ams as tightly as he could manage to represent his emotions. "I was wrong, you DO care! And you came to my rescue and you were so cute!" He took Saeran's cheek in his hand patronizingly. He was actually laughing merrily, partly from relief, but mostly from bliss.

Saeran whipped around only to have Sidhion thrown around him. First his ears, then his entire face heated and flushed red. Saeran shushed him hurriedly and attempted nervously to break free of his hold. "It doesn't mean anything," he insisted, avoiding eye contact.

"It does to me," Sidhion said honestly. He chuckled lowly. This was an adorably bashful side of Saeran that he hadn't yet seen. He let his hands flit down Saeran's sides to rest on his waist and leaned in close so that their faces were an inch apart, whispering conspiratorially, "you know, you should let me give you a reward." His eyes danced with mischief.

"N-" Saeran tried to stop him, but found his throat constricted and had to swallow to free his tongue for speech. His face still burned, uncomfortably close to Sidhion's. His jokes and teases were so over the top, but for the first time, Saeran doubted that Sidhion was only teasing. _What do I have to lose_? After a careful breath, he said, "I recall you pledged to 'show me where you really shine'."

Sidhion's heart was beating a mile a minute. That was a yes, right? If possible, his smile grew even wider, and he took Saeran's chin in his fingers and tilted it gently to the side. He glanced down at Saeran's lips and up into his eyes one last time before he closed his own and pressed his own mouth to Saeran's. The moment their lips touched, it was like fireworks were being set off in Saeran's brain, and he wondered if Saeran could tell that his heartbeat had all but ceased altogether. His skillful lips moved with Saeran's, even more in sync than when he led their dance earlier. He smirked, and moved Saeran's cheek further, deepening the kiss as much as he dared and dominating Saeran's mouth while his other arm pulled Saeran's slim frame even closer against his own. It was every bit as sweet as he'd ever imagined.

Slowly, Saeran relaxed his tense body and pressed it instead into Sidhion. If anyone saw, it didn't matter. Maybe it was the scent of the blossoms, or the alcohol, or just Sidhion's unfaltering affection, but Saeran could swear this kiss felt better than that of any hapless maiden whose lips he'd robbed. Saeran briefly could understand why Tyson desired the life of a hero; the reward for such action was apparently great. Finally he put a hand on Sidhion's chest and pressed him away, reluctantly extracting his entwined tongue. "You have been waiting for that, haven't you?"

It was over all too soon. But he wouldn't forget it. Sidhion blinked slowly, coming back from a daze. His heart felt like it would melt over.

"Yes," he said simply, almost regretfully, taking Saeran's hands in his and rubbing circles with his thumbs. "For a long, long time."

He smiled, then. A genuine smile, rather than a silly one. "I won't press my luck." He lifted Saeran's hands to his mouth and placed a chaste kiss on his knuckles. "I bid you good night, Saeran Naïlo. You are a fine young man."

Saeran bowed his head and leaned close again. "And you, a perfect gentleman." he whispered in Sidhion's ear, before he pressed a kiss to his neck, just barely brushing his teeth against the skin.

It was all he could do not to jump. Rather, he tried to stifle a squeak of surprise. His cheeks and ears lit up, but he had no shame. He couldn't help but react with raw and unadulterated emotion. He was too far gone. It was getting late, but he could stand rooted to this spot forever. And Saeran had just called him perfect. "W-we should h-head home," he managed, in the least butchered form of the sentence he could produce.

Saeran laughed at his reaction. "I could do just about anything to you, couldn't I?" He shook his head and stepped away from the warmth of Sidhion. "Go home, Stilmyst. If you can manage."

"Only because I'd let you," Sidhion said cryptically, head clearer with the distance between them. "I think you'll find that I can manage a lot more than you'd think," he offered slyly, giving Saeran a look. Leaving him to figure that one out on his own, he pivoted and let his feet carry him away. He'd managed to kiss Saeran Nailo, and that was more than enough. He would wait forever if he had to.


	5. Alchohol

Tyson plopped down on a stool in his favorite tavern after just having walked back to town from his bridge-defending job. He was considering resigning, as there had been absolutely no action, and nothing save for gentle breezes and the occasional ferret. He wasn't a guard, even if it was good pay. He lifted his hand, getting the bartender's attention, who smiled jovially as he immediately prepared a goblet of mead for his favorite well-tipping regular. "Tough day of work?"

"Not at all," Tyson sighed, leaning against the counter with his chin in his palm. He wished he was allowed to bring Ellifain with him. She would love the stream and the open grass that far out…

His words attracted some attention from another bar-goer. Two stools away from Tyson, sleek black hair was tucked behind a pointy ear, revealing quizzical green eyes. "Hello, gorgeous," a voice like velvet called to him. "I've seen you around, haven't I?"

Tyson glanced up, semi curiously, and tilted his head to the side as he took in the ravishing elven woman before him. He hadn't even noticed her when he walked in… He felt his ego swell slightly. "Probably." He looked back at his drink before he stared too long. She looked somewhat familiar. He was sure he had picked her out in Starhold before, for being an attractive female of his own kind. She owned some sort of local shop or stall?

"You're the axe guy, right?" She turned towards him, glass in hand, and folded her long legs under the barstool. "I couldn't forget a face like yours."

The axe guy. It had been a while since he had been identified by something other than his race. But of course, she was his kin. His lips twitched as he thought about his soon-to-be masterwork battle-axe. A face like his? He reasoned that she was calling him attractive, but he had to stop himself from tracing one of the many scars that marred his cheek, and he held his hand instead out to her. Formalities. "Tyson."

A bold smile met the woman's lips as she took his hand, with the hand she wasn't holding a glass of wine in. "Illenya. I take care of the weapons shop in the District." Her eyes ran over Tyson in a quick motion that a less observant man would dismiss.

Having not had enough to drink to inhibit his innate perceiving capabilities, and having been around women enough, the quick glance was not lost on him, and the lust in her eyes unmistakable. Her skin suddenly felt hot against his own flesh, and he wondered how long it had been since he had had.. gratification. Too long. "I've seen you," he responded, continuing the idle chat and meaningless introductions. He would ask what sort of weapons she sold, as he was vaguely curious, but he didn't want to get in too personal. He wasn't interested in a relationship.

Illenya nodded, and glanced away in feigned carelessness. "Yeah. I thought so." She idly sipped her drink, and after some time and a few more swallows, she shifted onto the bar stool next to him. "Look, Tyson, was it? You seem like a down-to-earth kind of guy. I've had a stressful week, and I'd love to...work out the tension with you tonight. There's a cheap inn near by..."

And there it was. Tyson drained his goblet and stood, tossing two unnecessary gold pieces onto the counter where he sat. He turned to Illenya. "The inn isn't necessary. I have a place." No way in hell was he going to 'sleep' on some trashy, used bed sheets. He operated in class. Placing his hand on the small of her back, he led her to the door and opened it for her. He felt a familiar blood pumping through his body (it really HAD been too long), along with a twinge of something else which he couldn't place…

Illenya grinned at him and left the tavern, content to be guided. "Enthusiastic. I like it."

Elsewhere in the city, Jennessa was bottling a batch of potions, her second of the week. When the last vial was corked, she slumped back in a chair and pulled her goggles up to rub her eyes. Applied magic was harder than tutoring enchanting students, but it paid a whole lot better to sell potions than teach at the college. She glanced around her office with a sigh. Outside, people were partying and drinking and chatting and kissing. And here she was. "I miss Tyson," Jennessa murmured to herself.

_"Then go see him!"_ squawked a voice from the doorway. _"You've been moping all week. You know where he lives."_

"I can't just show up at his house, Esther." Jennessa sighed, standing up and tossing her goggles on the chair. "He's got his own stuff to do. He might not even be home. What am I gonna do, show up on his porch and ask him to love me?"

She walked to her parlor where Esther was snacking on a mouse.

_"You're a smart girl. I'm sure you can start some conversation. Better than whining around here."_

Jennessa paused and thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers triumphantly. "Esther, you're right! I know what he likes." She swept up her cloak from the coat stand by the door. "Don't wait up for me." And she was gone.

Tyson was pleased to let Illenya into his lovely home, wasting no time in showing her to the bedroom. No need to give her a tour when it's the only room they would be using. He hadn't had enough drink to make himself tipsy, but he did have a feeling of warmth in the pit of his stomach that was radiating to the rest of his body as he pressed her against the door and found her lips...

Those smirking lips moved in tandem with Tyson's. _Such a gentleman on the way here. I'm glad he's not so polite in the bedroom._ Illenya thought as she wrapped a leg around him and flicked her talented tongue against his lips.

Tyson released all thoughts and feeling other than touch and let his body control itself. He deepened the kiss as his fingers slipped over her sides and found the fasteners to her bodice, releasing the clasps with little difficulty. He took her leg that was around his hip and effortlessly carried her to the bed.

Illenya let herself fall back on the silken covers on his bed, pulling Tyson after her by the collar. She worked her way down the buttons on his chest, eager to feel for herself the man underneath. Then there was a series of energetic knocks at Tyson's front door.

Tyson's ears pricked at the reverberating sound, but he thought he'd heard wrong. Who would be knocking at this hour? He decided to ignore it and continue his exploration of Illenya's unclothed skin, which he discovered was even softer than it looked. His doublet lay open, revealing his muscular chest, along with a new array of scars and marks that if nothing else eluded to the dangerous life he led.

Illenya moved with a passionate haste to wrap her arms around Tyson's firm torso. When her soft hand met the biggest of his scars, for just a fleeting moment her lips were still, hesitant. After that fraction of a second, she was pulling him in just as eagerly. The door sounded again, with three unmistakable "THUD, THUD...THUD". Illenya ignored it, and ran a hand along his belt.

Tyson shivered as her fingers danced over the place where he'd been maced by an orc so many decades ago, and he was losing himself in the delicious act of intercourse when he heard the door again. He groaned gutturally, the arousal clear in his voice as he removed his lips from her skin and muttered into her ear "I'll be right back".

"Hurry," Illenya said with a playful lick.

Outside, Jennessa brushed her hair out of her face nervously, trying to decide the best pose to be greeted in. She positioned the bottle of Elven wine she'd bought so it was the first thing he would see, ribbon and everything. _What if he's not home?_ she worried. If he was already out drinking, he didn't need more wine. Then the whole plan was ruined. Jennessa could only hope he would eventually answer the door.

Tyson stepped hastily but grumpily to his front door, ready to send the visitor away without so much as entertaining a conversation, when he swung the door open to reveal of all people, Jennessa. Her red hair was as wild as ever, her clothing reminiscent of something practical that someone from the college would adorn, and her hands were clasped around a bottle of a familiar brand of red wine. He for a moment was speechless, and his cheeks blanched from the flush they had been as an intensely awkward air came crashing down on him. He suddenly regretted opening the door as wide as he had, for his hair was disheveled, his shirt was gone, his belt all but undone, and if that didn't give him away the sheen of sweat, the labored breathing, and the bulge in his pants most certainly did. "Jennessa…." he managed.

Jennessa's face had at first gleamed with a shy smile, which slipped away into an embarrassed blush. "Tyson, you have no shirt," she muttered, forcing herself to look away. "Of course not, you must have been getting ready for bed. Of course you were, it's quite late. I'm sorry," she said quickly, cheeks growing redder. She didn't mean to catch him undressing.

Tyson was floored by her politeness in not stating the obvious, and he very much appreciated it. And yet, as Jennessa's sweet smile melted away, and her cheeks lit up with a healthy glow of pink, Tyson found himself less in a hurry to get back to whats-her-name. Cold air from outside drafted over his bare skin. "Now isn't really…" he trailed off. "Had I known to expect you.." He felt disappointed, but was finding trouble expressing why.

Jennessa's mouth went dry. It was awkward to be there, on Tyson's doorstep, but it was too nice to see him again for her to walk away. Then she remembered the icebreaker she had cleverly picked up on her way. "I brought you something that I thought you might like." She offered him the bottle of wine, with a perky red bow tied at the neck of the bottle, and dared to look at him again. His chest was shining, and though it made her uncomfortable to see him half-clothed, it was also wonderful.

Tyson respectfully took the bottle from her, with lack of anything better to do. "Thank you.. What's the occasion?" What had brought Jennessa to his house? Was she intending to celebrate something? Suddenly he felt stupid for asking the occasion. What if she had gotten a promotion at the college, or finally figured out a new potion, or it was her birthday, and she'd mentioned it and expected him to know already? Then he'd come across as ignorant and insensitive. He watched her eyes carefully for disappointment or anger as he awaited her answer.

Occasion? Why was everything so formal with Tyson? She should have known better than to listen to Esther. Her ideas were never appropriate. That's what you get for taking advice from a bird. Well, the casual approach had failed. All she had left was honesty. Jennessa smiled softly and shook her head. "I missed you," she confessed finally, looking in his eyes.

It was like something cracked inside of him. Why? Why did she miss HIM? Why did she have to come to his door in the middle of the night? Why did he have to agree to sleep with a random woman and then bring her to his house? "We haven't spoken in a while." A week at least. This was as close as he'd get to stating that he missed her company as well. He wished he could go back in time an hour and just stay home after guard duty. Now he had a half naked woman on his bed, and Jennessa in front of him, and he was angry at himself somehow. He ran his hand through his tousled hair, causing it to stick out more.

Jennessa nodded at his statement, which was almost a confession of fondness. "No, we haven't," she said with a slightly amused snort. Tyson was acting odd. "Could I come in so we can catch up?" She hoped desperately he would say yes. Being on his porch was terribly awkward.

Tyson's eyes widened and he was torn between hurting her feelings by turning her away, or letting her in and possibly hurting her even worse. Didn't she realize that the other woman would still be here? Or... Jennessa had no idea what she'd interrupted. 'Getting ready for bed' indeed.

"I don't… I'm half-dressed right now," he said, by way of explanation. "I could meet you somewhere else." That wasn't his house. He needed ten minutes to get rid of his other company and look decent again.

"Of-Of course!" Jennessa swallowed nervously. "I shouldn't have asked. Sorry. I'll just... wait out here, for you to be ready." She stepped back with a sincere smile.

Which was perfect. Unless someone else needed to use the front door without Jennessa seeing them. "It's cold out here. You could wait at the tavern next door. I might be awhile."

Jennessa tilted her head, puzzled. "You don't have to do anything special for me, Tyson," she said sweetly.

Invisible to Jennessa, Illenya emerged from Tyson's bedroom, wearing only a sheet from his bed that she had wrapped around her chest. She stared at Tyson expectantly.

Spotting Illenya in his peripheral, Tyson waved the hand that was invisible behind the open door at her, to tell her to stay back. "Fine. Two minutes," he said, closing the door carefully on Jennessa's hopeful face that was tearing into his soul. He couldn't bring himself to lie to her (or anyone really), and couldn't entertain the thought without being reminded of his brother's diplomatic prowess. He turned to Illenya. "I can't. You need to leave."

Illenya's bright eyes turned dark. "What gives?" she demanded.

"It's a bad night. This is important." _To me._ "You should get dressed, it's cold. And use the back door."

Illenya clutched the blanket covering herself, with anger blazing in her eyes. She stormed back into his room. "You know I've heard of you, Tyson Naïlo." she growled from his room. "Half-human not good enough for you?"

She knew his last name? He followed her in, donning his own shirt once again. Her second comment sparked anger inside of him. "Clearly," he annunciated, motioning to the bed sheets and clothing still on the ground, "it isn't a problem."

Humiliation mixed with her fury, and Illenya was even louder while she fumbled with her dress. "What is your problem, then? Why'd you bring me here just to kick me out?"

"Something came up." He crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. He stared at the ground, feeling conflicted and awful at the same time. "I just can't."

Illenya shook her head furiously, muttering to herself as she finished dressing and flipped her sleek hair over her shoulder. "Next time you take a girl home from the bar, the least you can do is satisfy her." she muttered in a low growl before storming out to the back door, as specified.

Tyson's eyes followed her out. He didn't feel guilty about making her leave. She was the one who had come onto him, after all, and it was a meaningless encounter anyway. One night and they'd part ways. He appreciated that her hurt pride hadn't promoted her to make a larger commotion. He waited about a minute before returning to the front door and reopening it while he laced up his boots.

Jennessa perked up when he opened the door again. "Hi, Tyson." She'd heard a door slam, and hoped he wasn't too upset about being kept awake. "Where would you like to go?"

Tyson ran his fingers through his hair again. He hated stressful situations. Well, stressful situations that couldn't be solved with an axe. "You've lived in this city longer than I have."

"That's true." Jennessa watched Tyson closely. He looked so much less composed than he usually did. "I bet you don't want to hang out in the library, though. I know! There is a lovely garden we could take a walk through. If you want," she added hastily.

"Sure, yeah," he responded, digging the hand not holding the bottle into his pocket, and urged her to lead the way. Illenya could still be in the vicinity.

"Is everything ok in your house?" Jennessa asked innocently, stepping timidly toward the main streets and hoping he would follow. She found Tyson sweating and shirtless, and someone was clearly very angry. Jennessa was worried he was having a brawl of some sort when she showed up.

"It is now. It's not something I want to go into." He wandered after her.

Totally a fight. "Whatever happened, I'm sorry." Jennessa cleared her throat. "So... what have you been up to since we came in town?"

"Not much. I got a job defending a bridge a couple hours away from here."

"That sounds..." Jennessa trailed off. "I've been studying a lot. And making potions to sell to the fighter's guild."

"What kind of potions?" Tyson couldn't imagine anyone enjoying studying.

"Mage armour. You know that one." They wandered through the streets, under glimmering lanterns. Jennessa thought to herself how much better this was than being alone inside.

Tyson hummed in response, looking up the lanterns. He idly wondered whose job it was to light all of them. And whether it paid better than standing on a bridge and looking menacing for hours on end.

"Have you visited anyone else?" _Or just me?_

Jennessa looked up at him. "You mean like Sly or Cardinal?" her face grew hot as she walked with him. "No."

Tyson turned his head away when he couldn't hide a smile, and his fingers twitched toward hers. He cleared his throat. "I heard Cardinal was trying to join the church." He was surprised how many people in Starhold seemed to know their names and what they were up to these days. Word travels fast.

"Wow." Jennessa said. "That's big. I remember when he just-" she suddenly lost her train of thought as in the swaying motion of her walk, her hand brushed up against his. "just... liked bludgeoning things."

When their hands made contact, Tyson felt a spark of something. Seeing as he had never truly achieved his tension relief earlier that night, he figured he was simply still sensitive to another's touch. He smoothly responded by letting his hand fall open to gently grasp hers. "There's nothing wrong with bludgeoning." He remembered those days. Cardinal was more fun to fight then.

Jennessa's heart soared as she realized this was the first deliberately affectionate action Tyson had made towards her without being intoxicated. She let him hold her hand and walked in blissful silence to the garden. "This is it," she said plainly. It was a fenced off area of small, slender trees and pruned flowering bushes, with a few quaint benches scattered around a modest pond. "It's quiet even during the day time here."

Tyson glanced around the foliage and felt a calming presence. "Do you come here a lot?" He wondered why Jennessa sought out the quiet. He'd had a lot of quiet since he left home a decade before. He learned to enjoy the sounds of merriment and commerce and even simple footsteps that accompanied people. He walked them to a bench.

"Oh, not much." Jennessa said, hoping he wouldn't let go of her hand just yet. "Sometimes I visit the monastery. But this is my favorite garden." She was torn between averting her eyes bashfully and keeping them locked on Tyson. This moment was one she planned to hold on to for a long time.

There were plenty of gardens when Tyson grew up. But none that he'd ever visited with a girl. Or anyone really. He wondered if the plants here were.. volatile, like some of the ones Jennessa was growing in her home. Jennessa looked lovely, if not a bit chilly with her cheeks tinged with pink as they were. He still found it hard to believe that she enjoyed spending time with him, enough to seek him out on their off days. Isn't twenty four hours a day for weeks to months on end enough time for anyone to get sick of seeing the same faces? "They remind me of the lilies my mother grew."

Jennessa concealed her enthusiasm to hear that the lilies in her favorite garden were of Elven variety. "Really?" She sat down on the nearby bench, with ornately carved armrests, and tugged gently on his hand to sit next to her.

Following suit, Tyson joined Jennessa on the bench, sitting so that their knees made contact every once in a while. "Yes, they were her prized possession," he said, feeling a pang of sadness that he ignored. "She cultivated them for guests and status, but I think she just loved growing them." He chuckled suddenly. "I helped her prune them when Saeran threw a fit about it."

Jennessa giggled with him, partly from imagining a young Saeran storming about and partly because Tyson's laugh was so rare and genuine that it made her happy just to hear it. "I'm sure they were gorgeous."

"They always just looked like flowers to me." He looked at their fingers laced together. His were so marred. They had never used to be that way. "I'll show them to you," he said. "If you want," he added hastily. "When we get to Holimion." He was sure there were things she'd rather go to, like the Circadium Library, or that mages' college. He hoped she wouldn't wander off in curiosity. He needed something or someone from this new world to keep him tethered to the present during their stay.

Jennessa's face was dominated by a gleeful smile. Between being here with Tyson and finally visiting the kingdom she'd always dreamt of, nothing in this moment was out of place. She didn't understand why he was so content to hold her hand, but she wouldn't question it. "Tyson, I'd like nothing more than a tour of your family garden." With a shiver she moved closer to him. Out of battle, Tyson's face seemed so calm and sensible. Jennessa knew that behind those dashing scars lurked intelligent, caring thoughts. One day, she'd get him to say them out loud. "I'm really looking forward to seeing Holimion for myself," she confessed softly. "All I've seen are illustrations. It looks so... beautiful. And thanks to Drell, I finally have that opportunity."

A wave of anxiety washed over him and he hunched over. He was sickened with the thought of returning to his oppressive home state, but moreso with the thought that Jennessa and Cardinal were polymorphing their bodies for him.

"Jennessa, if you're found out, you'll be enslaved. You're changing your body and the course of your entire life for something so risky." And she was only 17. He didn't view her as a child, and yet when he was 17, he was climbing on his brother's shoulders to steal sweets in the parlor.

Jennessa was taken aback. "I understand the risks, Tyson." She slipped her hand out of his. Sure, the polymorph spell would be an excellent disguise. What Jennessa didn't want Tyson to know is that she wanted this for her own reasons. She wanted to be an elf, and be respected and admired at first sight instead of shunned and judged. She wanted to live hundreds of years without aging. She wanted to walk the halls of Holimion as a free woman. "I'm choosing this."

His hand curled up at absence of hers, and he moved it to his lap. "I know you understand them logically." He just didn't believe she knew the full weight of it. He sighed. Life as an elf would be a life outliving all of her friends and family. Watching them and their children grow old while she stayed young and healthy. Tyson most certainly would not to choose to live longer.

"I won't think less of you for changing your mind and trying to find a different way into the kingdom. Okay?" he questioned, looking deep into her eyes. "It's your decision to make. But I want you to make it for you."

Jennessa was quiet. Staring back into his eyes was almost enough to make her forget the conversation matter. She wondered, but did not dare to ask, if Tyson might find her more attractive with pointy ears like his. Finally, she looked at him with a steely resolve, with the remarkable determination only her eyes could shine with, and nodded firmly.

"I understand."

Tyson watched her eyes until he saw the fieriness that wasn't just her hair. The same willpower he'd seen in battle against Brontown, and in bouts of stubbornness and resolve since. He knew that she would take it in full stride. All of it. The strange eating and sleeping patterns, the graceful customs and rituals, the hardships that would follow. Then he smiled. "Okay," he said simply, and popped open the bottle of wine she'd brought to him.

When his gaze broke, Jennessa smiled back. That wasn't so bad at all. She adjusted herself comfortably next to him on the bench and rolled up her sleeves. "Let's see what I can do," she muttered. Her eyes flashed briefly with arcane brightness and she moved her hands quickly, and then in front of them, two simple glasses appeared with a small *poof*.

Tyson's hand shot out to catch them, but when they didn't fall, he looked at the glasses in surprise. "I didn't know you could do that." He ran his fingers over the lip of the one closer to him curiously, then poured Jennessa and himself a drink when he was satisfied they weren't going to shatter on the stone beneath them. "What do you know about elven culture?"

Jennessa giggled at Tyson's reaction and took a sip from her glass. She leaned back against the bench and folded her legs. "Let's see. I know a lot about history. The revolution, particularly. How the Council was overthrown in the battle at Alulanta. The rise and tragic fall of house Kalinia." Jennessa swished her wine idly by letting the glass hover and simply pointing a finger in lazy circles at the wine. "I know you should always bow if someone bows first. I know it is less disruptive to the land to harvest a plant than to slaughter an animal. I know not to flick your ears at someone, for that is a grave insult."

Tyson nodded approvingly. "That's excellent. I'm surprised you know as much as you do having lived around here for most of your life." Her knowledge of history would be extremely useful. "How about mannerisms?" He took his glass and held the stem elegantly between his fingers, presenting it to her. "The way a noble holds a glass."

Jennessa quickly grabbed her glass from mid air the way he showed her, then faked an air of snobbishness to take a sip.

He snorted immediately before clearing his throat to cover it up. "Perfect, actually. Like highborns here, they'll never say what they actually mean. But they imply everything. Gestures like fixing your hair, touching your face. Making eye contact for too long. It's like initiating a challenge to their stature." He explained. "Most elves aren't-"_ like me. _"Blunt." He continued to rattle off the rules that were ingrained into his head for over a century, hoping he wasn't just being redundant. The more convincing she could be, the safer they would all be.

Jennessa watched and listened with wide eyes, nodding occasionally. It was important information, if she didn't know from the subject matter than she knew from the urgency in Tyson's voice. "I know I need a false name," she interjected when he paused to sip his wine. "After losing power, one of the last families of house Kalinia left Holimion to be slaughtered by dwarves. Which you know," she added pointedly. "They had a daughter who was never found. So... that's my surname."

Tyson blinked. He hadn't thought this far ahead, but he was glad Jennessa had. A credible back story, and one that people wouldn't question out of respect. "That's brilliant." He took another sip of wine. "What about your first name?"

Jennessa couldn't stifle a smile. A warm happy feeling rose up inside her to be called 'brilliant' by him. It meant so much to her. She looked away, blushing, and tried to focus her thoughts to answer his question. "I like Soveliss," she said shyly. "What do you think?"

Tyson coughed. "I don't think… that would be well-received." She couldn't have picked more male of a name. "How about you go by Elawyn? It's very classic and reputable. And also beautiful." He quickly looked at his wine while he said the last part.

"Okay." _Whatever you say, Tyson._ Jennessa beamed at him and rose from the bench, leaving her glass in mid air. "I'll be Elawyn Kalinia. Pleased to make your acquaintance," she said in fluttery Elven, curtseying playfully and offering a hand to Tyson like a noblewoman might.

Tyson took her hand and bowed his head gracefully in response. "The pleasure is mine, Lady Kalinia," he responded in his native language. Her tongue wasn't perfect, but was fluid enough to pass un-scrutinized. He turned to pour himself another glass, "that's how a noble would respond," he said softly, offering to refill hers as well.

"I can do this." Jennessa said, aloof. She motioned to her glass to come closer, and it floated up obediently next to Tyson's. "Thank you for your help."

He snagged the glasses and took her hand to lead her to the pond, where small fish were darting to and fro, undeterred by the now-set sun.

"Something wrong?" Tyson asked as he poured. She suddenly seemed detached. It was getting rather late.

Wrong? Everything in the world was right. "Not at all." Jennessa said, smiling warmly at him. The wine was easy to drink, and gave her a radiating confidence. She gripped his hand tightly, eyes wandering Tyson's face.

Tyson felt her eyes on him looked up to meet hers. His expression softened before he kicked his boots off and sat down at the edge to let his feet rest in. "Why did you take me here Jennessa?"

Jennessa's heart stopped. Honesty had served her well yet tonight. Maybe it would continue. "Isn't it obvious?" She stepped out of her shoes and lifted her skirt to let her feet trail in the pond. The cool water felt nice on her toes.

Tyson hated that question. He was never sure what he was supposed to be seeing. "You like spending time with me." He kicked his feet idly.

"Just you," she elaborated. "Not around Cardinal or Sly or Shadow."

He tilted his head back and looked at the night sky. He wasn't smart like all those mages at the college she went to. He was strong and stubborn, rough around the edges, and a man of few words. He sought out danger and slept in whorehouses and drank alcohol on a regular basis. He didn't fit in at home, he didn't fit in at Starhold. And somehow Jennessa had found something in him or about him that no one ever managed to or bothered to. "I'm lucky," he said sincerely. "If Cardinal had never cut those restraints in that bandit camp." He'd never have known any of this.

Jennessa let go her glass and ran her fingers through her hair. "I'm glad we found you, Tyson." The moon shone in his dark locks of hair, and Jennessa was overwhelmed by him. After all the time they spent together, she still felt all weak and fluttery around him some times. "Why did you let me? Take you here, I mean."

"I had nothing better to do." Which was true. "And we hadn't spoken in a while." He finished drinking and reached out to set his glass to hover an inch or so about Jennessa's head. "This is nice."

Jennessa agreed with a happy sigh, staring into her own glass instead of at Tyson. "I'm glad you like it." Suddenly her relaxed demeanor shifted to one of surprise and panic. A passing fish brushed her toe and she swung her feet out of the pond with a yelp.

Tyson laughed genuinely, his third glass of wine combined with the beer he'd had early fully relaxing him. "I don't understand how you can ruthlessly incinerate corrupted bandits, but react like that when a fish nibbles on you. I guarantee you can do more damage to it than it can to you." He reached into the water, cupping his hands, and tried to catch one.

Jennessa's face turned red. "It startled me." she said quietly, tucking her damp feet under her and moving to the edge of the pond again. "What are you doing?"

"Trying to.." They were more slippery than they looked. The guppies were all around the size of a clothespin. Then a larger fish the size of his fist jumped out, splashing water onto them both in the process. Tyson's eyes widened and he stared after it dumbstruck for all of three seconds before he tore off his shirt and jumped into the shallow water after it.

Jennessa was amused, dumbstruck, frustrated, and enticed all at once. "TYSON!" she shrieked, picking up the doublet he tossed on her in his haste. "Get out of the koi pond!" she insisted, standing up only to be splashed through the Paladin's ridiculous melee.

"Not until I-!" Tyson slipped on the slimy silt coating the base of the pond and fell in, emerging soaked and dripping and unsuccessful a half second later, gasping for air. He glared at the smug koi and splashed the water angrily. "Next time," he muttered bitterly as he lifted himself out next to Jennessa. His worst scar lie bare for all to see for the second time that night.

Jennessa held his shirt behind her back, giggling. "That fish had it coming, huh?"

"I never thought they'd be so hard to hold on to. I have a new respect for the guys that catch these." He shook out his hair, raining droplets. He picked up his boots and looked around for his shirt, furrowing his brows. "Did you see where I-?"

Jennessa watched him in gleeful silence, biting her lip gently. When he addressed her, she just shrugged playfully, poorly concealing his shirt behind her back.

He huffed, puzzled, when he noticed Jennessa was well aware as to the placement of this article. "Jennessa.." he walked over and held out his hand.

Jennessa stepped back and shook her head. Since her inhibitions melted away with the lovely wine she'd brought him, she had no aversion to letting her eyes wander his bare chest, lingering on the scars and muscles.

She was just… staring at him. He didn't know whether to feel pleased or disconcerted. "You want me to walk home like this?"

Jennessa looked up at his face with a playful smirk, twisting her bare foot into the ground shyly. "I suppose it is cold out tonight," she admitted. Jennessa offered him his doublet for a moment, then pulled it back quickly, as if to say, _Come and get it._

He looked at her exasperated, but decided to play along. Maybe he couldn't catch the fish, but he could certainly catch Jennessa. He dashed closer quickly and wrapped his arms around her to trap her. He smirked in triumph but when he looked down at Jennessa's face the doublet seemed slightly less important..

Jennessa couldn't beat Tyson on grace or reflexes, but she hadn't really expected to. Her smirk lost its playful malice when she looked in his eyes. He looked just as surprised as she did. Jennessa's heart pounded against her chest, which was held firmly to his bare, slightly damp chest, and she wondered if he couldn't feel it beating. This was definitely what she'd hoped would happen, in the best case scenario. Eyes locked with Tyson's, she let the jacket slip from her hand and used it instead to timidly touch his bare skin.

As Jennessa's fingers slid across his unclothed skin, an involuntary shiver ran down his spine. /Damned cold…/ He opened his mouth to say something, and tried to remove his arms from her body, but he found his hands resting on the waist of her bodice and pulling her instead closer. She seemed surprised, but he still saw that warmth and sureness in her eyes that he'd seen earlier, and it goaded him to lean and press a gentle kiss to her lips.

Jennessa's eyes slipped closed and she only held on tighter, using Tyson's ragged torso to latch on to the soaring feeling of his lips softly pressed against hers. Her hand ran over his biggest scar, but rather than pause or shudder, she pressed herself against him closer. The feeling of kissing him was one of few things she could never put into words. It was exhilarating, and brought her joy, and made her feel like being next to him was the most important thing in the world.

He couldn't describe the rush of emotion he was feeling now, but he did know that he felt like kissing Jennessa, so he did. He knew he couldn't stay like this forever, and the next couple of months would be some of the worst they had ever suffered. But for now, he could be happy and at peace and NOT have to remember. He kept it chaste and sweet. He didn't WANT to do more than that. Somehow, it felt as if it would be degrading. And this, this was perfect.

Jennessa had a new reason why this garden was her favorite. She pulled back finally and looked into his eyes, still gently fingering the scars on his back. "You can have it back now, if you really want it," she whispered, nose still brushed up against his.

"I think I found something more important," he said, and kissed her again. Tyson didn't know what she was doing to him. But he felt weakened and empowered all at once, and he knew that it had to be something special if he kicked a beautiful woman out of his house and hastily got dressed simply to take a walk with her. She was a close friend of his, but was she more-?

That thought startled him and he pulled back suddenly. He looked into her eyes hopelessly confused for a second before he shook it off. He reached up and moved a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I think it's time we get home. I'll walk you to your house."

Jennessa gently lowered the foot that she had unknowingly kicked behind her. "If you want." Jennessa said sweetly, without moving away from him. She was so happy to have him kiss her for once that she wouldn't mind being taken home now. Especially if he decided to come inside.

Tyson picked up his boots, shirt, and the empty bottle, and cast the koi one more dirty look before heading in the direction he had learned her house to be and offering his arm to Jennessa.

Jennessa slipped her shoes on and trotted after Tyson with excitement. She wrapped her hands around his bare, offered arm. "Thank you, Sir Naïlo," she enunciated in careful Elven, just the way he showed her.

Tyson didn't feel the need to be proper when he was half naked, but he hummed in acknowledgement. The walk to her home was short and sweet and the air was crisp. He could see why she came here a lot, as the walk could have been no more than ten minutes in duration

When they arrived at her front door, he cleared his throat and took a step back. "Thank you for tonight. I had a wonderful time."

Jennessa believed he meant every word of that. He actually kissed _her_ this time. "I did too. Thanks, Tyson. For catching up with me." She trailed her hand down his arm and entwined it with his. She had him. By now, he must have understood the way she felt about him. And maybe some of her devotion finally bounced back.

"Goodnight, Jennessa. I'll see you around," he said, bringing her hand to his lips and bowing gracefully. "Lady Kalinia." He pivoted and turned in the direction of his own house, feeling kind of foolish for his display just then. A lovely night indeed.

It took Jennessa every ounce of fortitude in her slender body not to swoon right there on her front porch. Once he began to walk away, she slowly opened the door and locked herself in, then ran to Esther's perch to pour out her feelings. "You're the best bird who ever lived!" she shouted to her familiar, who was awoken abruptly and squawking and suddenly dragged in a dance through the parlor. Nothing else mattered. Tyson kissed her. Tyson shirtless, in the park with her. On her doorstep. Everything was perfect, and there was nothing bandits or kings could do about it.


	6. Throwing Rocks

Tyson watched as his professor gesticulated enthusiastically, twirling his pen. This class was simply on the history and ethics of various magics, required for all of the students in his year at the academy. The Holimians were very proud of their arcane talents, and renowned mage college, and as such all of the schools emphasized study in the mystical sort along with more rudimentary topics. He found it boring and pointless, as he had no desire to ever use such knowledge, so though he tried to focus to maintain decent marks, Tyson found himself ignoring his teacher as she slipped into yet another tangent- this one on the particulars of enchanting bows.  
His eyes wandered to Vira, who sat a few rows to his left. She was watching with an intensity and curiosity that baffled him, and seemed to be taking notes even on this rant that wasn't in the subject matter. She always seemed so serious about her studies. His eyes wandered to the window, and he was lost to imaginings of dragonslaying.  
Vira nodded along with her instructor, enjoying the passion in which this prospect was explained, but wondering if she would ever really need to know this. Her ears pricked acutely as her senses tingled, and she looked over to Tyson Nailo, who was staring outside. Had he been looking at her? No, of course not. But she leaned on her palm, admiring him from her desk. He was really growing into a handsome young elf. Suddenly Tyson stood up, and she realized that class had ended. Brushing herself off and standing tall, she strode proudly out of the room, ignoring her other classmates.  
Tyson swung his book bag carelessly as he headed toward the main exit when he heard "wait!" in what was distinctly Vira's voice. Pretending he hadn't heard her, he moved to slide down the banister.  
"Tyson Nailo, I know you heard me. Halt, that's an order."  
Tyson waited.  
"You're always in such a hurry," Vira admonished lightly when she'd caught up to him, and the two began walking side by side, ignoring the many eyes of classmates. "Where do you go?"  
He shrugged. "Home sometimes," he said vaguely. Today he'd been planning to go to the stables and watch them clean the horses. It seemed he would be walking the princess home instead. He hoped he wouldn't run into his brother, as Saeran had seemed to be asking about her a lot these past few weeks (once he'd gotten over being scorned at Lamara). He smirked at the memory.  
His answer left much to be questioned, but she had an agenda. "Well, seeing as we're both done, perhaps you would like to escort me to the Arun District," Vira said calmly, though her heart was beating rather quickly. At this moment they had exited the building and were nearly across the courtyard.

Economics on the third floor found Saeran Nailo bored out of his wits and gazing idly at the city streets outside, when his eyes suddenly fell upon a sight that peaked his interest once more. Vira was out of class now. And she was walking with...? There was no time to spare.  
Saeran clapped a hand to his forehead with a quiet moan of pain, enough to turn the professor's attention to his side of the classroom.  
"Mr. Nailo...?"  
Saeran turned up, looking embaressed. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't meant to..." he shut his eyes in a moment of struggle, "interrupt class. It's just this terrible headache."  
The kind-eyed teacher looked at him with a touch of concern. "Perhaps you need a breath of fresh air."  
"Yes, yes, thank you," Saeran managed, rising from his desk slowly, apparently with difficulty, and bringing himself to the classroom door while leaning on tables for support. Once the door was shut Saeran Nailo nearly ran down the stairs and through the hall to bring himself to the courtyard of the Academy where he'd spotted the pair of them walking.

Just the mention of food awoke Tyson's stomach and there's no way he could turn down Vira's request now, not that it would have mattered. Even so, he grinned, asking, "Is that an order?" Vira rolled her eyes. /That smile can do things to a girl../

"If it must be. Honestly, I can't be that difficult to associate with. In fact, you should thank me for my time," she teased. "I'm thinking of something salty.." she said, which set Tyson onto a list of foods they could have. At the sound of footsteps in grass, they both turned to see none other than Saeran Nailo approaching them.

Tyson immediately shut his mouth, waiting somewhat edgily as his brother reached them. /Great./

Vira sighed at the intrusion, but stood at attention anyway, not breaking eye contact with the darker Nailo. "Saeran," she said in acknowledgement when he reached them.  
Oh, how his heart thumped to hear her say his name. Nevermind the disdain lurking behind it; one day soon it would be replaced with desire. "Hello, Vira," he said calmly, as if disinterested, before turning his attention to his brother and adapting a tone of loving discipline. "Tyson. You should have waited for me. Mother hates when you walk home alone. You know how she worries, don't you?"  
Tyson's jaw dropped for a second at the stark lie his brother told. /You have got to be kidding me./  
As if Vira wasn't used to people attempting to feed her untruths her entire royal life. She turned up her nose at his 'greeting', if it could be called that.  
"She never said anything like that," Tyson countered, hating his brother for patronizing him in public.  
"And he isn't alone," Vira cut in smartly. "Thank you very much for your false concern." She tried to get Tyson to continue walking, hoping that Saeran might leave them be.  
Why did Vira have to make everything so difficult? Saeran strode after his younger brother and the company who was much too beautiful for him. "You musn't be walking my brother home. I can take care of it, Princess." He clapped a hand to Tyson's shoulder without taking his eyes off of Vira. "Though if you insist, I see no reason why you couldn't accompany us both."  
Vira's face heated up and she stamped down on her temper before she cause a ruckus and lose face. /How dare he!/  
Tyson quickly removed Saeran's hand from his shoulder. "I'm not a child," he grumbled. It seemed Saeran was set on staying, however.  
"I'm going to have to respectfully decline your offer, as I don't wish to walk with you," Vira said, blatantly honest. "Maybe next week, Tyson," she said kindly. And with that, she carried herself away with her usual driven steps, motioning for a guard at the fence to accompany her.

Tyson glared at his brother, folding his arms. "What's your problem? Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"  
Saeran stood, deflated, and watched her walk away with a degree of disbelief. His charms simply weren't enough for her. "Short lecture today." Saeran grumbled. He stepped around Tyson and began the walk home, much less polite now that he had no chance of getting Vira to smile at him. "Let's go."  
"Fine." With nothing else to do now, Tyson joined Saeran for the short walk back to the estate. He wondered why Saeran was so interested in Vira, because clearly it wasn't mutual, but he didn't think he'd get anywhere near an honest answer. He glowered silently and hoped that his brother wasn't going to start walking him home regularly again. Eventually he opened his mouth to speak. "She doesn't like you."  
Saeran clenched his teeth. Tyson's words lit a fury inside him, and the only thing he could do about it was snap his head as his younger brother. "You don't know what you're talking about." he snarled, fists balled. He knew Tyson had long since reached the size that Saeran wouldn't be able to hit him and expect to get away with it, even if Tyson hadn't yet realized it was a possibilty. He struggled to calm himself, and shut his eyes so he could stop seeing red, but the inside of his eyelids burned with the image of Vira walking away from him yet again. "What did you say to her?" he said finally, in a forced calm. /What words did you find that I could not?/  
Tyson was startled at Saeran's sudden temper, and nearly faltered in step. He avoided eye contact by watching his feet, but the question that followed confused him. "When?" He talked to Vira all the time. Or rather, she talked to him. And she was plenty nice, so he enjoyed her company. He enjoyed how she always knew when his brother was making things up. Saeran seemed calmer now, but his face still showed anger. "I say a lot of things." A lot of things for Tyson. He didn't talk nearly as much as his brother.  
Saeran loosed an exasperated sigh. Tyson had no idea how he'd won Vira's trust, which he so desperately craved. It wouldn't work so easily for him. Maybe she just didn't understand how tortured he had her. How she appeared in his dreams, always just out of reach. Saeran would pay attention to every word she said, if only she would speak to him. He'd treat her the best a woman could be treated, if only given the chance. Maybe if he could get her alone... "Forget it." Saeran muttered, already forming a plan.  
Saeran was acting odd. Tyson knew he was frustrated from being rejected by the princess yet again, and yet he's the one who wanted to walk home together. /Whatever./ The last thing he wanted to deal with right now was his brother's moodiness, so once he caught sight of their home, he sped off towards his room, leaving Saeran.  
Saeran wanted some peace to think, without his brother stomping about pretend swordfighting like he thought no one could hear, and his father's preaching and his mother's fussing. He went around the side of the house to the garden, where he watched servants meticulously file away at the blossoming plants. It was a tranquil scene.  
Obviously Vira wouldn't acknowlege him for throwing himself in her path time after time. Getting her to look his way would take more than that. Tyson hardly spoke at all, as far as he could tell. Maybe the trick was, in fact, listening. Vira didn't want a handsome smoothtalker, she wanted someone who cared. If he could show her that he was willing to put in some real effort for her, maybe, just maybe, she'd give him a chance to be a good listener. And Saeran could imagine it, just like that: he and Vira sitting under the moon, doing nothing but talking, and it filled him with a strange sense of longing that he couldn't ignore. So he determined to actualize the vision. Tonight.  
Saeran left the patio in search of his brother once more. He had the plan, but a little assistance would be needed. Voluntary or not.  
Tyson swung around his practice mace in his large bedroom. "Unhand the king," he snarled, charging an invisible enemy and flourishing his weapon chaotically. He was practicing his footwork, of course, but there was no reason he couldn't fight imaginary foes whilst doing so. He lifted his mace to the ceiling, as though some god was blessing it, and then brought it down the pulverize his enemy. "For justice," he cried as he vanquished the evil. One day, he would really fight and save people. He twirled his weapon proudly and all too suddenly tripped on his book bag, dropping his mace and falling flat on his back.  
Saeran smirked and paused by his brother's door to listen to his enthusiastic cries and less-than-graceful return to reality. Barging in on Tyson's little moment was not the way to make him cooperative. So Saeran took a moment to let Tyson gain his bearings and then knocked regally on his door.  
At the knock, Tyson leaned his mace in the corner and sprawled out on his bed as if he'd been there all along. "Yeah?" he questioned. Was it a servant? His family members never knocked. "Come in."  
Saeran leaned in with the door and looked quizzically at Tyson, as if something was puzzling him deeply. "Have you ever seen a red rabbit here in Holimion?" he asked curiously.  
Tyson's ears twitched curiously and he sat up. "A red one?" He thought back to the bunnies he'd seen, and could think of no hues other than browns and golden. "There's no such thing," he responded. Or he'd know about it, right? It was impossible to live here for seventy years and to never have seen one. Right? He fell back again, disinterested.  
Saeran nodded, looking reassured. "Yes. I didn't think so." He started to shut the door, then thought better of it and leaned in to speak some more. "I was just asking because Sidhion SWEARS he saw a dozen in the royal courtyard last week. Says they looked more fluffy than a freshly laundered pair of griffon-fur gloves. I don't believe a word of it, do you?"  
Tyson snorted. "Sidhion also swears that one day you'll-" he paused. Well, had he ever actually BEEN in the courtyard? And yet he knew that Vira could have practically any pet she desired. Perhaps she'd had some imported from somewhere else. Which was absolutely possible. He grew excited and sat up, aiming to maintain his calm composure in what he thought was quite convincing. He said as logically as he could to his brother, "there's one sure way to find out." And then he stood up and laced up his boots haphazardly. "Are you coming?"  
Saeran grinned internally, but only quirked an eyebrow at his brother. "Really? ... Well, alright then. I would love to prove him wrong." he said, voice low. Sneaking around was always fun. Especially when the one who would take the blame wouldn't be him.  
Tyson led the way to the palace, wondering if these alleged red rabbits were anywhere near as soft as Sidhion had proclaimed. "What else did Sidhion say? Was someone feeding them?" he asked curiously, wondering if he was correct in his pet theory. He took a bite of the bread and treese he'd brought for along the way (seeing as he hadn't gone out to eat after all).  
Saeran was so caught up in contemplating his approach for the Princess that he hardly realized what Tyson was talking about. How utterly insignificant his questions were. Red rabbits didn't exist. "Oh no, not that he mentioned. Just saw them playfully hopping about, batting at their giant ears with giant feet and such," he finished, without his usual gusto. It was probably enough to fool Tyson but Saeran's heart was simply elsewhere. Namely, at the Princess's balcony.  
"Rabbit things," Tyson figured seriously. He could hardly wait to see them for himself. They walked the rest of the path in silence, as Saeran mused unbeknownst about Vira and Tyson about bunnies. After a good twenty minutes, they arrived outside of a large but lovely gate. "Should we just knock and ask?" Tyson asked Saeran.  
Saeran shook his head. "They won't believe we came here just for the rabbits. The king and queen are probably busy anyway. This way." He grabbed Tyson's sleeve and dragged him several feet to a low point in the palace wall. The sun was setting at last, and stealth was on their side. "Give me a boost." Saeran insisted.  
"We can't just climb into their property!" Tyson complained. Was Saeran out of his mind? Tyson wanted to see the rabbits as much as Saeran, but he couldn't justify breaking the law. That wasn't just.  
/You and your morals./ Saeran leaned close to his brother, reassuring him. "Sh. It'll be alright, we won't be in for long. And if they find us we just have to say that we wanted to see the rabbits, and didn't want to cause any trouble. Do you want to see them or not?"  
Tyson looked at the wall and back at Saeran again. He REALLY wanted to see them. And really, they weren't going to do anything bad. Just look. "Fine, just this once," he relented, feeling guilty but kind of invigorated all the same. He moved to the wall and held his hands out for Saeran to step onto. "Come on," he said quietly.  
/Fool./ Saeran knew victory was within grasp when he stepped on Tyson's hands and put his weight on his sibling's sturdy frame. He glanced quickly around the top of the wall, then clambered on and lowered his hand to help Tyson up, like so many times before.  
Tyson bit his cheek, compromising his conscience as he accepted that hand that was now enshrouded in shadows. It was night. Saeran didn't really pull Tyson up, but he provided enough of an anchor for Tyson to kick off the wall and pull himself up. Once he was up on top, he crouched, listening carefully for anyone nearby. He'd been here a hundred times, so he let himself down as quietly as he could manage, and set off in the direction of the royal courtyard. He was sure Saeran would be right on his heel, so he didn't bother to turn and look.  
Saeran shook his head incredulously at how little care Tyson was showing for the sake of staying out of sight. He belined for the center of the castle. It could not have gone better. Saeran kept to the shadows and the corners, heart pounding, and slowly made his way towards the bedroom of Princess Vira, where he belonged. Guards were patroling the entire building- of course- so Saeran waited for his brother to cause enough of a ruckus for him to make his way over unnoticed.

Tyson found the courtyard rather quickly, and eagerly he sat behind a bush as he waited for one of these red bunnies to make an appearance. After a few minutes, he was getting nowhere. /Maybe they're sleeping../ He looked around carefully before crawling out into the open and feeling around the grass for rabbit holes. Surely if the bunnies were kept outside, they'd have made a den?  
"HALT!" Tyson cringed as he heard a guard's voice, and he tried to scramble to his feet to get to cover when a hand grabbed his ankle and lifted him up. He looked up to see a stern palace guard glaring at him as he dangled a foot above the ground.  
"What business have you on Aldmae royal grounds? Show me your weapons," the guard ordered.  
"I don't have any," Tyson responded, unable to keep himself from admiring the fine elven steel sheathed on the man's hip.  
"State your business," the guard repeated.  
"I... I was looking for Vira's pet rabbits," he said seriously.  
The guard's face screwed up in anger. "You think you're funny, brat? How dare you address the princess so informally! Who are you?"  
"Tyson Nailo," Tyson responded, shaken both mentally and physically. His guilt was eating away at him. Where was Saeran anyway?  
"A.. a Nailo?" The guard set Tyson right side up remorsefully, but still sternly took his arm and lead him away. "You're broken a lot of rules tonight."  
Tyson didn't know what to say to that, so he just hung his head and let himself be taken by the authorities.

The two stern looking elves that sat by Vira's window heard the commotion and hustled briskly to resolve the issue. Saeran watched to make sure he was out of sight, and hurried to Vira's window. Now it would be simple... but he remembered with a sinking feeling, that she hardly wanted to speak to him at all. The ivy trellis on the side of her building looked like it could maybe support someone as light as him. Just maybe. But first he needed her attention. Desperate measures would be taken. Saeran searched the grass at his feet for a moment until he found a pebble of significant weight, and without a second thought, he hurled it at Vira's bedroom window.  
Vira's head jerked away from the book she'd been studying. She was sure that something had just hit her window. Setting the book aside, she pulled on her robe and grabbed her rapier, moving against the wall and edging toward the glass pane carefully. Peeking out the window with great caution, she made out the form of none other than Saeran Nailo, not an assassin, beneath her bedroom. She didn't know whether to be relieved or disgusted. But all the same, she opened the window to call down to him. "Are you daft?"  
Saeran couldn't stop smiling. Seeing her sillouhette in the night against the warm light from inside was a beauty he wouldn't soon forget. He refused to take his eyes off of her. "Apparently," Saeran almost laughed.  
/Why does he keep smiling like that?/ Pulling her robes tighter around herself, Vira said in her most commanding voice, "What's so important the you needed to infiltrate my castle in the middle of the night?" Where were her guards anyhow?  
Saeran gestured regally around himself. "It's a lovely night. I thought you might be happier if you weren't confined to your room. All those guards must be stifling at times, hm?" Then he looked up at her seriously. She was barely clothed, and that realization made his heart pound even more than before. "I really blew it this afternoon. And for that I apologize."  
/I'll say. You wrecked my date with your brother./ She peered down at him warily, unsure at this distance if he was being truthful or not. "I accept your apology." /Though the impropriety of its delivery alone is an entire new thing to be sorry for./ She contemplated his offer. She really hadn't planned on climbing out her window to accompany Saeran Nailo anywhere tonight. If it had been his brother, she realized she'd be on the ground already. She blushed at the thought of Tyson doing something so sweet.. then shook her head. With Saeran, everything was a trick. What did Saeran know of confinement? "I've already prepared myself to retire for the night. Lovely though it may be, I think I'd rather stay inside," she finished, ready to close her window again.  
Her hand was on the shutter already. Saeran leapt forward, suddenly uncertain of how he could persuade her. He was too far. Around Vira his thoughts became so cloudy, it was hard for him to think straight at all. Saeran found his hand gripping the rung of the trellis, and he looked up at her desperately. "Then let me come up there," he said, without fear, mind too hazy for regretting such a bold offer.  
She was a second away from slamming the window shut once more, but the note of desperation in his voice sounded so real it had her intrigued. She stared at him incredulously. He was overstepping his boundaries- of course, he'd done that when he pole-vaulted her front fence. There were guards all along the hall, so it's not as if he could do anything to her. Not that she expected he would. He was a jerk, but he knew better. /This may be the worst decision I've ever made./ "I'll spare a few minutes," she said softly. /I'll give you a chance for Tyson's sake. You could be my brother-in-law one day./ "But I won't be liable if you fall and hurt yourself."  
Saeran breathed a sigh of relief and smiled once more, heaving himself onto the unweildy ladder before she decided to shut him out instead. It had worked. He had a few minutes, and that was maybe all he needed. "I won't waste a single one," Saeran managed as he climbed. The guards could be returning to their post any moment. This was not a position he could readily explain away, as if he needed any more motivation to climb into Vira's bedroom.  
Vira thought she was crazy when she considered letting Saeran up, but she knew she was crazy as she stood back to let Saeran climb into her bedroom. Where no boy had ever been. She shut the window to keep the cold out and looked at him expectantly while she returned her rapier to its resting place. "Well? You have your private audience." /So very private./ She did her best to appear unfazed that she was wearing thin sleeping garments before this man that just weeks ago was lusting after her at Lamara. Stand proud and tall.  
The moment was not lost on Saeran. He took a moment to take in all the grandeur one would expect from a princess's room, before letting his gaze rest on the girl herself. His breath escaped him. And here he was at last, alone with Vira Aldmae, and all he could bring himself to say was, "I didn't know you fenced."  
"You know very little about me," she stated. He'd only recently taken an interest in her, and before then, the only place that she every saw him due to age difference was at social gatherings. They knew OF each other. She folded her arms, keeping her patience. Had he snuck past her guards and climbed up her foliage to tell her that? Why was she entertaining herself with this stranger?  
"You're very right." Saeran hesistantly stepped towards her, unable to resist. "I'd prefer to change that. I realize you don't appreciate my being forced on you." He took a step back, a first for him, and swallowed to clear his dry throat. Wow, was she beautiful. Saeran tried not to stare for long, but he realized he was probably blushing and there was nothing he could do about it. "I also realize you don't particularly like when I... speak. Very well then. Let me listen, instead." He looked Vira in the eyes then. "Let me... get to know you." he managed. It sounded unnatural to his ears, like it was something that would never leave his lips.  
She watched him unfold cooly, finding no trouble keeping her wits about her. His reaction was puzzling. Where was the dashing and glib fellow who broke women's hearts for sport? She didn't want to believe him outright, but she didn't think he was so in control of himself that he could blush on demand. In fact, this entire speech was too forward and insane to have been planned. She scrutinized him and assessed that he was being at least mostly truthful. /You have a hell of a way to get through to a girl./ Her eyes softened. "The first thing you should know about me is that I value honesty. I don't mind if you speak. But it's a waste of your words to spend them on lies."  
Saeran was a mess. His heart was beating much too quickly and his palms were sweating, and the words weren't coming to him the way they aways did. Vira had him so uncharacteristicly nervous and self-conscious that he had half a mind to jump out the window and abandon the whole thing. But the way she looked at him then, without her usual scorn, made him suddenly feel as though everything would be alright as long as he stayed close to her. He nodded, careful not to break eye contact with her. "Alright," he said softly, wondering if she would mind if he held one of those soft little hands or wrapped his arms around her barely concealed waist. Hopefully she wouldn't ask him a question that he'd have to lie to.  
He was hanging on her every word, and it surprised her like nothing else. He just wanted hear her speak? Were her words finally getting through to him, or was he thinking of something else? She wished she could read minds, because his expression wasn't telling her anything. Except that he was as antsy as she was inside, and doing either a poor job or a fantastic job of hiding how he felt. She backed up to sit on a plush piece of furniture as she considered this. "If I seem callous to you, understand that there are very few that I can trust." That went without saying. She was sure most nobles were familiar with false attempts at friendship or romance by the greedy, so she didn't have to explain that. But her title made it rather difficult for her. While she knew plenty, Vira could count her close friends with a single hand. Tyson was on that list. "I'm not in the habit of letting dignitaries into my quarters, no matter how convincing they may be." She could feel his eyes on her, and she tried to ignore them.  
Saeran smiled half a smile. "Consider me honored." he said quietly. He took a step towards her, just to see if he'd be reprimanded, then sat down at her side. Somehow he'd made it into Princess Vira's bedroom. Few people would believe him if they heard, but then, he didn't sneak in here just to prove he could. "Does it get lonely?" Saeran asked softly. He watched her beautiful face carefully, as not to miss a single twitch of her nose or sparkle in her eyes.  
She straightened at the proximity, but she wouldn't scoot away. Vira was not threatened by him. "Occasionally," she admitted, hoping it wasn't a double entendre. "Everyone's lonely sometimes," she added, looking into his eyes. "Aren't you?" Through all the social gatherings and official obligations where one must put on a proper facade, Vira was happy to have a select few in her life that she could talk to about most anything. It's a bitter life indeed to pretend forever.  
Saeran wanted to shirk away at such a personal question, but he wouldn't dare break contact with Vira's eyes. "Of course," he said too quickly. Lonely? Rarely. There was always someone present to twist words around, and Saeran was very seldom not surrounded by admirers. But in truth, ever since Sidhion had changed his tune, Saeran didn't have an equal in the world. There was no one to confide in, it occured to him in a voice that he almost immediately shut out. He set his elbow on the back support of the seat they shared, desperate to touch her but afraid an attempt would be the end of their rendezvous. He ended up fidgeting with his own hair instead. "Once in a great while. But at least I don't walk with an entourage."  
"I can order them away," Vira mentioned. "They know to listen." /Everyone does./ " When Saeran put his elbow up, she stopped breathing, sure he was going to try something. When he didn't, she was pleasantly surprised at his self control, as it was obvious he wanted to be a bit closer. With that in mind, Vira decided not to tempt him further. "It's late. Perhaps we should call it a night," Vira spoke, moving to stand.  
Already? No! "Wait, please." Saeran reached out desperately and took her hand, anchoring her back to him. The touch sent a jolt through his arm that he wasn't familiar or even really comfortable with. "We... we've only just started." /Why will you talk to Tyson but never to me? Why can't I be permitted to know you?/  
His firm grip on her hand brought her back to their dance on the roof not too long ago, and she felt uncomfortable but didn't pull away outright. "Why are you so eager to know me? We can speak at the academy," she said, confused but direct as always. What was his sudden fascination with her? She assumed he, like so many others, was hungry for her power. And yet he stared at her as though he was marveling some goddess.  
Saeran looked deep into her eyes, one and then the other. Didn't she understand how she was ruining him? How it was so easy to spin his voice around anyone he met except for her, who remarkably put him at a loss for words? How he didn't care about beautiful girls the way he used to because not a single one could hold a candle to her? She had to understand, because it was impossible for him to find the breath in his lungs to tell her whenever she was near. "You mean like today?" Saeran tried to hide the pain in the memory, because explaining hurt feelings was simply not something he did. "You have nothing but scorn for me, and I really don't think I deserve it."  
/Don't deserve-/ Her eyes narrowed, and she was about to give him a piece of her mind but she stopped. She wouldn't lose her temper. Maybe she was a little short with him, but did she hate him? She shook her head. "It's not that I disdain you. I simply can't stand for the actions you take," she said. "My first impression left much to be desired. The same night, you were awfully wicked to my friend Alea." /And you show no remorse./ "Can't you see why I'd be hesitant to accept your friendship? Do those even register as offenses to you?"  
/Alea who?/ Saeran's head whirred as he tried to recall the offence that had made Vira so adamant about degrading him over and over. "Vira, I-" /Oh, Alea./ How was he supposed to know dancing with that commoner would ruin his chance with the princess? "Had I know she was your-" Nope, that wasn't right, he could tell from the sudden narrowing of her eyes. Saeran ran his fingers through his hair and tore his gaze away as he tried to fight through his frustration in order to win that soft smile back. "Okay, I admit that I made a mistake. I should have left her alone." Was that the right answer? It would have to do. Saeran looked up at Vira and continued. "As for trying to kiss you, can I really be blamed?" That's what she was so upset about, right? It had earned a slap, after all. Definitely not his smoothest moment. "I'm...sorry."  
Was he? Silence filled the air as neither would look away. Finally Vira looked down at his hand, still wrapped around hers. "I accept your apology." She could see that he was trying to make amends, and that was enough. The air was still strained and she felt concluding was in order. Standing up, she slipped her fingers from his and made for the window. "I don't know how you managed to make it past my guards, but if it's my forgiveness you sought, you have it. As for now, I'd like to retire," she said, forward as always as she opened the window. A sudden gust of air blew her robe up to expose her legs and she pulled it down quickly, clearing her throat and trying to maintain her authority.  
Saeran didn't want to go, especially after catching a glimpse at her smooth, slender legs that made his heart thump. He took his time crossing the room and stood close to her, hardly able to believe that he was actually about to leave the beautiful princess and most likely never return to her bedroom. He didn't even find out if the matress was as soft as it looked. "Must I?" he muttered, sighing at the window before turning back to Vira, cheecks still pink from the crimson that lit them at her little accidental exposition.  
"You're dismissed," she said a little stiffly. "You climbed up, you can climb back down. Watch for the men who patrol the east side wall." She was about to place her hand on his back to urge him along, but she didn't want him getting the wrong idea, so instead she folded her arms around herself.  
Saeran decided it might be worth it to tease her just a bit. He set his hand on the windowsill and pulled his weight onto it, then turned back to her. "You know, it was a lot of work to get up here. And you're sending me off without so much as a kiss? What if I fall? It could be the end of me."  
Vira chuckled. /Honestly.. you never do change./ She moved closer and leaned in, a breath away from his face."Then you'd better not fall," she whispered in his ear with a smirk. And just as quickly she stepped back, gripping the handle nonchalantly as she waited for him to descend. "Good night, Saeran."  
So close, and yet... He looked her over once last time. "So you do care," he muttered with a smirk, before he swung his legs over and got a grip on the trellis. "Sleep well, princess."  
She closed the window softly in his wake, moving to lie on her bed and wonder if she'd made a mistake. Letting Saeran Nailo into her private chambers had been interesting, but if he was insufferable before, what would he be like now? She was sure he believed he stood a chance with her, but she couldn't see such a relationship ever taking flight. She would entertain his company so long as he acted civilly. But she had her eye on another entirely. With a fond smile, the princess drifted off to sleep. 


	7. Standing Guard

Tyson cracked his neck, rolling his shoulders a few times to work the kinks out. He looked over at the pitiful fire Sly had managed to make for them, around which the rest of their party lie. The winter cold was setting in, he could see his breath, and his muscles were getting stiff so that he would have to shift positions every do often. The night was mostly silent, save for Cardinal's snores and the horses nickering. Tyson hummed some forgotten tune almost inaudibly to himself.  
Jennessa was tossing and turning in her bedroll. The futility of their search was irritating to her. There were no bandits to be found, no spells to cast, no battles to face, no point in sleeping. With a sigh she gave up and crawled out from her tent, into the light of the campfire.  
Tyson's ears pricked up with sound as his song came to an abrupt end. His hand jerked toward the handle on his axe until he recognized the step pattern (and slight stumble) to be Jennessa's. Taking a deep breath and letting it out through his nose, he continued to stare off into the darkened wood. He couldn't help but feel that tunnel 8 was some sort of wild goose chase, but the longer they looked, the longer he was alive.  
"Hey," Jennessa murmered in a sleepless tone to the shadowy figure keeping watch.  
Tyson nodded in acknowledgement, gesturing to the seat next to him. "Hey," he said back quietly.  
She dropped next to him with a small smile. "I couldn't sleep. Not like it matters," Jennessa said in response to the question Tyson pointedly did not ask.  
Tyson cocked an eyebrow curiously. "Why doesn't it matter?"  
Jennessa sighed in frustration. "I'm not casting any spells because we can't find these stupid bandits anyway. So why bother resting?" She scratched at her mane of red hair. "Whatever."  
"Sleep helps you stay alert," Tyson pointed out, his eyes following her hand movement before he averted them. Why did he care if she rested? It was none of his business what she chose to do.  
Jennessa shrugged and gazed into the dark woods. She wondered briefly how they might seem different with the eyes of an elf. Since Saeren's plot was uncovered, Jennessa found herself thinking more and more frequently how things could be different disguised as- or even in the body of- an elf. "Are you doing alright?" She asked Tyson gently. He told no one of Saeren's orders for his execution, and although that was no longer something to actively worry about, it had to be a stressful burden to bear.  
"N-" No. But he didn't want to say that in front of her. He wouldn't want to say that in front of ANYONE, he told himself. But his brother had tried to have him killed. Technically, he also had the option of returning to his homeland, but he didn't consider that much of a choice at all. And despite everything his brother had said, Tyson hadn't really expected to return to Glitter one day to find that Saeran had departed for Starhold. It was like a punch to the gut from an enlarged Cardinal. "Fine. As soon as we find tunnel 8, I get a masterwork battle-axe," he said with the beginnings of a smile, but his heart wasn't in it. He couldn't care less about the axe.  
Jennessa heard from Tyson, for one fleeting moment, something almost like an admission to having an emotion. Then she recalled what he said to her in the dark on the walk to her house. /"Before I left home, everywhere I went, everyone I talked to was.. dragging me down,"/ "Listen, I know you don't want to go back." she said softly, daring to lean a little closer to Tyson. "That's why we insist on coming with you. Because we care about you." /Because I care about you,/ she thought. But he wouldn't appreciate that sentimentality.  
Tyson dropped his head into his hands and took a deep breath. He was dreading this trip more than the battle against the dragon in Brontown, "You don't know how they'll treat you if they find out you're human."  
Jennessa's heart dropped into her stomach, but she steeled her expression. "I have some clue." She knew what happened to humans only a hundred years ago. She knew what people thought when they saw her. The adversity only gave her more reason to disprove their bias, as a human. "I'm not afraid."  
/It's not the same../ Tyson looked up at Jennessa brokenly for just a split second, before his steely resolve was back once more and he stood up. "It's Shadow's watch."  
Jennessa sat still, shaken by the fragile look in Tyson's eyes. Suddenly she was so much less confident in herself and her path. If a man like Tyson could have so much fear and sadness in his eyes, what chance did she have?  
Tyson nudged said Inu awake ("another bottle of- nghh?") and secured his axe onto his back. "I'm going to take a walk," he proclaimed, heading off into the icy trunks with a final glance at Ellifain, then Jennessa.  
Jennessa snapped out of her stupor and quickly came after him, wearing only her chemise despite the cold. There was no time to get her cloak. "T-Tyson, wait." she said through the cold, hurrying after the elf.  
Tyson heard the crunch of snow behind him and was unsurprised but comforted to find that Jennessa had come with him. He stopped and waited for her to catch up, leaning against a tree. "I'm not really in the mood 'sleep' either," Tyson said in way of explanation. He tended to refer to his meditation as sleeping, because that's what it essentially was. He lead the way into a short circuit that, if his memory served him well, should circle back around to the camp in a mile or so.  
Jennessa nodded, mentally prepared to be there for him all night but not physically prepared to walk all night in the snow. "Okay. If you want to walk, just let me walk with you." She smiled brightly at Tyson. The moon was big and beautiful this night.  
"If you'd like to." The two of them walked in silence for a moment. Tyson found the frigid air refreshing, and it calmed his head and helped him think. Jennessa, on the other hand, was noticeably shivering. "Why do you follow me?"  
Jennessa rubbed her shoulders and hid her face with curly hair. There were a lot of answers she could give. Generally, she liked being with him better than not being with him. Tonight in particular, she worried about him. She would always be safer with him than alone. And she hoped that if she followed him, he might open up to her. "So we can t-talk, in case you f-feel like it."  
Tyson decided subconsciously to make the walk shorter so this woman could get away from the cold. He shook his head. "You don't owe me any favors."  
"No. You misunderstand." Jennessa heard a crinkle in the woods and glanced towards it, moving subconsciously closer to Tyson. "I like t-talking to you. It's just that you d-don't talk very often."  
Tyson sensed her body heat from the mere inches separating them and tried to focus his thought processes. "Most of my life isn't worth retelling," he mused. "Tell me about yours," he said in an odd moment of curiosity. But also to get the subject off of himself.  
Jennessa looked up at him in surprise. "Mine?" The sound in the woods was nothing. Probabaly not even squirrel assassins. "Well, it's a lot shorter than yours. I was born in Peachvale. My dad was a farmer... so I thought. My parents thought I showed a lot of mental talent, so they paid for me to go to college in Starhold when I was ten."  
Tyson scrunched his nose up at the thought of school. "Is it like an academy?" Jennessa didn't strike him as a farmer type at all. But then again, he didn't exactly act as a noble.  
Jennessa perked up, eager for a chance to elaborate. "Not quite. Class schedules are more modular and individualized in a college, while an acamedy is more rigid and structured. I got to study things I was really interested in, like transmogrification and Elven."  
That's right, she spoke his language. "Why were you interested in Elven?" He wanted to ask what the first thing was, but he wasn't going to attempt to reiterate it.  
Jennessa's face started to warm up. "It's a beautiful culture," she said gently. "They-I mean you live so long. And experience so much. I thought maybe if I learned, I could be a little more like the elves."  
He shook his head vehemently. "You don't have to be like us. I'd rather be human," he admitted in a hushed tone, as if the forest itself would turn inward and judge him for it. He felt a surge of anger from his shield, but readily ignored it.  
"I have a feeling if you were a human you wouldn't say that." Jennessa said, much less excited. She let go of her thoughts of racists like Brawn with a sigh. "I spent six full years in college and then I met Kaen. And he made me realize there is too much out there in the world to sit in a library and imagine." She looked up at Tyson with a smile. "And here we are."  
"I had a similar revelation," he met her eyes. She had a lovely smile, and her skin was glowing where the moonlight broke through. He could still see her hair as vivid as day, but with the cool colors of the night, she looked almost ethereal. He lifted his hand to brush his knuckles over her cheek, but the second he touched her, his shield let out a ferocious "KILL THE SLAVE!" and he jumped away, tripping backward on a root and landing harder on his ankle than he would have without his heavy armor on.  
Jennessa let out a startled squeak as he fell. "Tyson?" She fell to her knees at his side without thinking. "Are you okay? What...?" She glanced around, searching for anything that might have caused such a severe reaction from him. For a second, he... "What happened?"  
Tyson was mortified, to have fallen so gracelessly and awoken Jennessa's concern. "Must have been ice on the ground " he muttered, his face burning. She was much too close. He needed to stand up, this was disgraceful. "I'm fine."  
Jennessa reached for his arm to help him to his feet, not yet aware of how she was now covered in snow. "Careful." Jennessa slowly came to realize he had moved to brush her cheek before he jumped back. Why did he jump back?  
Tyson jerked his arm away before she could touch it. "Don't- That's alright." He steadied himself and stood on his own. His ankle had a sharp pain, but was still fully functional. He looked down at the soggy and disheartened form of his friend, and tried to decide whether he should try explaining this one or not.  
Jennessa's face fell. Apparently Tyson could only lend himself to physical affection for her when he was drunk. Touching her without being in a state in which he wouldn't remember the night was repulsive to him, so much that he would rather fall in the snow than let a hand touch her. Normally she would just turn around, walk to camp and cry. But tonight Jennessa was tired of Tyson's constant dismisal. She looked up at him, eyes shining. "Why?"  
Tyson cleared his throat awkwardly. "Why what?" She was going to catch a cold if she sat in the deep snow in nothing but her thin dress.  
Tyson sighed, loosening the straps securing his shield and setting it to the side. Then he reached to Jennessa, holding out his hand for her to take. "It's not you, I promise. It's the shield. It's cursed with an elven spirit, and it got.. upset when I touched you."  
Jennessa took Tyson's hand, somewhat appeased, until her brain processed the words he said. "You have... a cursed shield?" she restated, staring at him. "Why do you never tell us things like this?"  
Tyson effortlessly lifted her to her feet. "It wasn't important. Cardinal would probably try to exorcise it. I don't really know." He didn't really want to share things with Sly or Cardinal most of the time. "We should head back," he said, pulling her in the direction of the camp.  
Jennessa let herself be led back to camp, because Tyson had apparently forgotten to let go of her hand and she didn't mind. "I was sort of hoping I could hear about what happened to you before we found you taken captive." /And rescued you./ she finished to herself. "You heard about my life."  
"Immediately before, or everything? I've lived a long life, Jennessa. Comparatively." Tyson stated. He played it off as he'd forgotten he was holding her hand, but in actuality, he hadn't held hands since he was thirty, and that was with his mother, and this was different. He thought back to that bandit camp and shuddered in distaste. Three weeks he spent underground tied to that post. He still owed them his life, even if they'd worked together and saved each other countless times.  
Jennessa didn't need reminding that Tyson had already lived longer than she ever would. "You never did explain how you ended up there." She hoped he couldn't hear her heart pounding blissfully with those pointy ears.  
"I was set up. I cleared out troop of bandits that were harassing townsfolk along the way to Starhold, except one who fled. The next day, an Inu found me and said he needed help getting his sister back from these bandits. And like I fool, I followed him and walked right into a pitfall. They knocked me out before I could attack them, and I woke up underneath their camp. And you know the rest." He didn't mention the torture, or the townsfolk brutally executed before him, but he didn't feel Jennessa needed those pictures. He didn't need much more of a reason to have the sort of vendetta he had against bandits.  
"That is awful." Jennessa squeezed his hand a little as he told his story. "So you were just out there, doing your best to help innocent people? And got captured? What did they want from you, I wonder."  
"They might have had something against my kind. We aren't exactly the easiest people to get along with. Or perhaps with the contents of the caravan theft I intervened in. Or that I killed four of their men. It doesn't matter. They're all dead anyway." The burning light of the fire came into view, and they were back to their tents at last. Tyson walked Jennessa to hers. "Thank you for keeping me company."  
Jennessa smiled brightly at him. Hearing him say "thank" was still huge to her. "You're welcome, Tyson." She glanced at Shadow breifly, and saw that he was facing away from her tent, just as she had hoped. Jennessa did not yet let go of his hand or move away, but instead smiled shyly and leaned just a little closer to Tyson.  
Tyson glanced from their linked fingers to Jennessa's face and back again, feeling his heart rate increase against his will. He'd returned her to her tent and bid her good night, why was she remaining put? And she was leaning forward.. oh. He started to lean forward when Shadow let out a yawn and said, "Oh hey Tyson, Jennessa. What are you two- oh. OHH. Sorry! Go ahead, I'll turn around. I won't even look!" Tyson let his fingers slip from Jennessa's. "Good night, Jennessa," he said meaningfully.  
Jennessa nodded, still smiling but not as brightly as a moment ago. "Good night." With one last look into Tyson's eyes, she ducked under her tent and was gone.  
Tyson returned to get his cast aside shield and then retired to his own tent for the remaining hours of the morning. He found his mind more at ease than it had been in days. 


	8. Elawyn

Saeran finally pulled the cart to a stop when the horses came upon a clearing. The adventurers set up camp under a pink sky, gathered around a fire with a generous supply of rations. Jennessa, for the twelfth time, brushed a strand of hair back and started when she discovered her ear to be unusually new and pointy. She'd specifically asked for her height to stay constant so she wouldn't worry about getting used to a new body to step with, but the ears were surprisingly difficult to adjust to. Everything seemed so much louder. Jennessa set her dishes down before her and folded her arms around her knees, letting her uncannily stubborn hair fall into her face.

She kept thinking back to the way Tyson acted a week ago, in the park. And yet how earlier today, he described her new looks only as "convincing." And how cordial and considerate Cardinal had been acting, in contrast. Her friends around the campfire seemed relaxed... they didn't understand how it felt to be a newcomer in your own skin.

Jennessa offered the rest of her stew to Sly and sat in thoughtful silence.

Tyson sat a ways away where he could have some peace and quiet to think. He'd brought Ellifain along, and she was happily munching on some grass while Tyson shoved dirt with the head of his axe and admired yet again just how sharp the masterwork blade was. Everyone else was sitting around the campfire having dinner, but he wasn't hungry. It was all surreal. To think he was actually returning to his home city after all this time. It was still odd to look at Saeran. He kept believing things were back to the way they were before he'd left, seeing as Saeran looked exactly as he did a decade ago. But then Jennessa would try to start a conversation, or Sly would try to shoot a squirrel, or Cardinal would break out into song, and Tyson would notice his marred flesh and remember that he was not the same elf he once was. And he didn't even have to look at his brother to know that Saeran was not either.

He was going home. For some reason he could not fathom, his brain still called it that. Ellifain nickered and he reached up to stroke her nuzzle. "Such a good girl.."

Jennessa's newly giant ears perks at the sound of Tyson's voice, so sweet, and it hurt her somewhat. She only wanted for him to speak sweetly like that to her again. But he refused to come to the banquet with her. She felt foolish for thinking he would like her better in this body. It didn't matter to him. Jennessa sighed and glanced around. The sun was moving down in the sky, casting deep, warm colors overhead. There were now three elves in their number; Saeran, sitting on the ground with as much dignity as he could, Tyson, axe in one hand and horse in the other, and her, "Elawyn". The name he gave her, which she must now call herself by. Jennessa dared to try words with Tyson.

"You should eat," she called to him gently.

"I'm alright," he responded softly, aware that Shadow was retiring for the night nearby. He looked over to meet Jennessa's eyes and could see the concern and confusion radiating from them. She was an elf now. He hadn't really spoken two words to her since she polymorphed. Truth be told, he didn't know what to say. Yes she was still the same old Jennessa he'd known and come to care for, but now he had to look into her eyes to get that familiarity. Now she was an elven female. And it was becoming painfully obvious to his senses that a lovely young woman was in his party and he wasn't doing anything about it. As was the other reason he found himself ignoring while he figured out how to deal with it. This was Jennessa for Justice's sake.

Jennessa sighed heavier. Distant Tyson was very much getting to her now, when she needed some support that turning into an elf was the right thing to do. As her comrades began to retire, she stayed behind, too upset to approach Tyson and too pensive to go to bed. Something about the environment seemed odd, as if time wasn't passing quite right. Then Jennessa glanced up at the sky and noticed that it had all but gone dark, with nothing but stars to light the world, and yet all her surroundings seemed as clear and vivid as day. She let out an audible gasp as she recognized that polymorph had given her not only an elf's hearing capabilities, but superior eyesight as well. Her eyes darted around the clearing, taking in the wonderfully different, yet colorful scenery of the night.

Tyson's ears pricked up at Jennessa's burdensome sigh, and then her gasp as her eyes darted around the way a child's might. She had just realized the sun was set. Tyson stood to brush Ellifain's coat, but was surprised to find her shoving him towards the campsite. When he found that she was just as stubborn as he was about what she wanted, he couldn't help but give into her whims. He rolled his shoulders and gave his smug horse one last look before he walked over to Jennessa and seated himself beside her.

"It's really different, huh?" he found himself asking. He was referring to the transformation as a whole.

Jennessa stared at him, hand on her mouth. "Yes." Even Tyson looked mysteriously different, yet very similar, under the cool light of the stars. "This... you see like this, all the time?" The trees, the tents, the horses, her sleeping friends, all in color under the moon. It was amazing, and yet somehow such a sensation had never been documented in any book she'd ever found.

"It's how all elves see." Tyson's mouth twitched upward. He picked a clover idly and looked at it carefully. He wondered what exactly everything looked like to humans. He didn't think it would be so great of a change, but clearly to Jennessa it was. "How are you adjusting?" he asked earnestly, moving a strand of her wild red hair to rest behind her new elegant ear.

Jennessa was relieved to have him talk casually to her again. She looked up at him with a genuine smile. "It's hard." she confessed. "But it's only been a day. I'll get used to it."

He found his breath leave him for a second, and then his lungs unconstricted and he swallowed. He wanted to tell her… what did he want to tell her? That she looked beautiful? He didn't want her to believe he preferred this body to her old one, because that didn't sit well with him from a moral standpoint. Nor was it true. So he just adjusted his fine silk scarf. "If you have any questions," he said lamely.

_I've got a couple of questions for you._ thought a voice in Jennessa's head that sounded suspiciously like Esther. She wanted desperately to ask him what he meant to her. But she feared scaring him away with girlish talk. "I feel so much more graceful," she decided to say instead.

Tyson nodded. "I've noticed." He said without thinking. His cheeks colored imperceptibly to the human eye, but definitely noticeable to an elf who could see full color. He'd need to be more careful. "I mean, your actions are more fluid. Moreso than mine. I never really thought of grace as something that was innate to my kind." Valued, yes. But biological, not really. Of course his mother would argue that grace was born.

Jennessa's whole face lit up with a grin. "You noticed?" One thing she hadn't picked up yet was subtle facial expressions. "I guess it comes naturally. It just feels so right." She held out her hand to the warm light of the fire and examined it. Her already long fingers now moved with so much finesse.

Her smile. It was so large and silly and Jennessa, it was definitely out of place on an elf. Tyson reached out to take her hand in his and stared at it, suddenly solemn. She had changed who she was for his sake. She had said it was for her, but really. This was the Jennessa who had marched up to his brother and defended his life. The Jennessa who found a loophole and planned to infiltrate the elven kingdom so that they wouldn't have to part ways. He clenched his teeth at the thought of Saeran, who wasn't thirty feet away trancing. If he'd never found them, if Tyson had never rescued him, everything would be fine now. But instead, he was on his way back to Holimion, the one place he swore he'd not return to where his disapproving parents and society waited to scowl in his direction when he wasn't looking. To whisper about the savage born into the Naïlo's family. To look at him with eyes so filled with pity or disgust he felt like he was thirty again. "I don't want to go back," he whispered, feeling the familiar pit of dread in his stomach he thought he'd escaped so many years before.

Jennessa couldn't help but stare at Tyson, so vulnerable all of a sudden. She clenched her fingers around his. She knew this was the most personal thing he'd ever said to her. "Tyson?" she whispered back, looking in his eyes. "We're here for you." She meant it in every sense. It was terrifying to see Tyson as anything but a testament to strength and willpower, but if he had to break, she was glad he did it in her presence.

He bowed his head and took a heavy breath. He knew his shoulders were shaking, but he hoped Jennessa wouldn't say anything. He tried to refrain from squeezing her hand. After a pause he looked up at her, his eyes raw with emotion. "Can we go? You and me, right now. They're all asleep. We could find somewhere far east," he said in a rush, probably sounding insane. _Somewhere Saeran couldn't find me._

Jennessa started. _Did Tyson just ask me to run away with him?_ For a moment her heart fluttered at the thought of two star-crossed lovers fleeing their fate to only be together. "But..." _Saeran will find out. And what will Sly and Cardinal do without us? And what would my dad say?_ As Jennessa looked in his dreadful, somehow childish expression, she knew what Tyson needed most was to be shown some one cared. So she put her arms around his quivering shoulders and held him in a comforting embrace.

Tyson flinched but didn't pull away. This was the second time she'd held him like this, but the circumstances were quite different. And again, despite the cold wind that was winter reminding them it hadn't passed yet, he felt warmth anyway, burning away at his insides. He hated this. Being weak in front of anyone. Being weak in general. He wanted to go back to pretending he was indifferent, but it was too late now. He finally lifted his arms and wrapped them around Jennessa's slim elven frame, crushing her against him (mindful not to hurt her) and surprised to find that her new form accommodated his better than before.

"I can't run away again, can I?" he whispered rhetorically into her hair.

Jennessa wanted so badly to indulge him. Yes, Tyson, we can run away where you'll be safe, just you and me. And we'll right wrongs, and vanquish evil, and rescue innocents and save the world. With the money they used to polymorph her, they could have easily faked Tyson's death. Why didn't they? She had to be selfish and use this as an excuse for her own youth. She should have listened. Obviously Tyson would rather die than return to Holimion. That's why he was content to lie down with alcohol and just take it when his death was impending. Now he was breaking, and it was her fault.

Jennessa shook her head solemnly, holding him closer.

Tyson closed his eyes and tried to calm himself. After another minute, his breathing began to slow and even out, and his taut muscles relaxed. And as he breathed in the scent that was still inexplicably Jennessa, he knew that it wouldn't be the same. He wouldn't be alone this time. His parents couldn't control him anymore. His grip slackened and he let his arms slowly fall from Jennessa's sides. "I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize." Jennessa heard herself say. Her heart leapt as she thought back to the night he said those same words to her. The night when he threw her on the bed, then acted like it never happened. She pulled back and looked at him with her best effort at a comforting smile. "Once in a while, you can fool me for a minute, and let me think you're not invulnerable," she half-joked.

"I'm not invulnerable." Tyson laughed almost bitterly, his walls too far gone to care. He'd fallen down in battle more times than he cared to count. He couldn't change his shirt without evidence of his own mortality. His lifespan was roughly nine hundred years, but he doubted he'd make it past two hundred. His nonchalance was a facade to hide the battered remains of his emotions. He was more vulnerable than anyone could understand at this point. Every insult Saeran uttered stung as strongly now as it did before. "There's so much you don't know. About the way it was before, the way I was. And Saeran."

Jennessa blinked at him, still sitting in his lap the way he'd pulled her in. "What did Saeran do?" she asked, barely audibly. She regretted it immediately, when she considered Tyson was likely to blow up at any moment and his least favorite thing to talk about was his brother.

What hasn't Saeran done? Tyson spoke in a hushed voice, as if his brother was listening for his answer. "He's killed people. Put innocents in prison. Tricked every public official into his pocket. He even has the king thinking that he's a good prospect for his daughter Vira." Tyson saddened at the thought of one of the few people in Holimion who he enjoyed. She may not have understood him, but she tried to, and she appreciated his need to be different. He hoped she was just the same. "He is not a good man."

Jennessa suppressed a shudder at the realization that the villain Tyson described was sitting in a tent a few feet away, barely sleeping. Definitely not a good man. Jennessa took a breath and steadied herself. "We'll be done with him soon enough." she assured him. I should have done away with him when I had the chance, she thought, as she recalled the image of Saeran, bound, silenced and alone, on the night Tyson would have been executed. "Then we can come home. Or go anywhere, really."

_We._ "Who knows how long the war will be? It could take years. Decades." If it was anything like the war with the dwarves a millennium ago… And Sly and Shadow had much less time than did Tyson, and now Jennessa. But they would be allowed to leave freely. Tyson would have to stay until the bitter end to defend his kingdom. Now that she was an elf as well, she would have to remain until the war had concluded. He still didn't believe she truly realized what she'd gotten herself into. She hadn't even lived for two decades. All the intelligence and determination in the world couldn't make up for a lack of wisdom. But as he looked into her endlessly caring eyes, he swore he would watch out for her until his dying breath.

Jennessa shrugged, and as her stomach plummeted she faked a smile she hoped he would believe in. "A few hobgoblins? We can take them out in a week. They'll be giving us medals before spring comes." She fidgeted idly with a curl of hair that fell from the back of his neck. Could she hold the ruse for years? Could she convince the Elven aristocracy to accept her as one of her own, and continue the charade? Or would she end up spending her suddenly elongated lifespan confined to a ball and chain? The false smile slipped from her face as worry began to set in. But Tyson was here, and Tyson would vouch for her. And Tyson's company was the only thing she needed. "No matter how long it takes, I won't be leaving your side."

Tyson adjusted her more comfortably in his lap. She seemed to be okay with that position. Having grown up with subtle implications and fake smiles, Tyson didn't believe it for a second. She was worried. He suddenly felt a spike a regret that he let her go through with the transformation. Of course she was too young to make that sort of decision. Was anyone ever truly old enough? "You won't be imprisoned. You won't spend the rest of our life incarcerated. If it should come to that, I'll think of something." He was sure she would before he would. Loopholes and secrets were more Saeran's thing. But he still had weight in the elven gentility. If he couldn't pull something, he would get her out himself, and fight whomever he had to. He wouldn't let her sacrifice everything for him.

OUR life. Jennessa relaxed a little, because she believed every word he meant, even the ones he didn't say. Her cheeks flushed, partly because of how he was holding her and partly because she felt safer under his watch than anywhere in the world. "It's not prison I'm scared of," she confessed. "Prison I dealt with once already. It's... it's slavery." Jennessa broke eye contact and buried her head in Tyson's shoulder. "I'm a little worried about being en-enslaved," she managed.

Tyson wasn't going to lie and say that elves were good to their slaves. He didn't remember much from when he was young, but he certainly didn't recall anything pleasant. But the idea of Jennessa on her hands and knees, catering to the whims of some elven master filled him with a fiery rage. He had to contain himself, but his voice still shook slightly as he proclaimed definitely. "You will be no one's slave."

Her giant ears perked at the wrath in Tyson's voice. He meant it. Jennessa wondered if she sounded similar when she was making demands of Saeran to leave Starhold and forget all about Tyson. He obviously felt the same way about her. She said nothing, only reached up to place a kiss on Tyson's cheek.

Tyson held his breath. He hadn't expected that as her reaction. So simple and sweet a form of affection, but his heart was racing and his anger all but dissipated on the spot. He stared down at the grass next to his leg, not sure how to respond. She always did this to him.

With an extremely capable ear pressed to his chest, Jennessa could tell how she'd made Tyson feel. She snorted a laugh quietly. "Sorry."

Tyson shook his head as he ran his fingers through her hair. "How do you do it?" He had always been so confident. Yet sometimes with Jennessa, a toddler by elf standards, he had never felt less sure of himself.

Jennessa tilted her head at him. "Do what?" she asked innocently.

_Make me fall apart and forget everything._ Instead he just chuckled lightly and used the angle to his advantage as he told her with his lips what he couldn't say with his words. As long as he could do this, somehow, everything would be all right in the end.

Jennessa did not understand, but wouldn't complain. At least not while he had her mouth busy. She ran a hand across his jaw, right past one of his signature scars. How she lived for his kisses.

Tyson leaned into her touch, coming to appreciate the little touches she gave him. He broke their kiss at last when he was short of breath and looked into her eyes warmly, hoping he could convey everything he felt. "You should go to sleep. We'll be riding all day tomorrow."

Jennessa rolled her eyes. "I'm not tired." she lied. The minotaur fight had exhausted her mind, but she wanted more of Tyson. He'd barely mentioned her new curves, and the night was young. She leaned in to snatch another kiss from his warm, soft lips.

He hummed but pulled back to look her in the eye suspiciously while he let his thumb roll small circles into her hip. "Are you being honest?" He found it hard to believe that Jennessa wouldn't be both physically and mentally exhausted, considering her transformation at least.

Jennessa blinked innocently at him while she decided how to answer. She wasn't sure she could lie to him while he stared her down like this, and sleep was alluring, but not as alluring as Tyson and his firm hold on her. She decided to change the subject. "How do you really think I look?" she asked softly.

Tyson looked her up and down. "From an elf's standpoint? You're young. Charming." He suddenly stood up, his arms easily supporting Jennessa as he walked to her tent. "For me, you're beautiful." He could tell she was hanging on his every word, but he knew critiquing her appearance would do more harm than good. "You know my favorite part?" he asked, stopping outside of the small shelter.

He thought she was beautiful? Graceful, sure. Cute, pretty? Maybe once in awhile. But Tyson actually said beautiful. Jennessa's eyes sparkled and she listened intently, too charmed to be indignant about being carried like a child. "What?"

"This," he said softly, twirling a lock of her hair. It was so unique and vibrant, and un-elflike. It didn't matter that she may look like the rest of the populace of his home city, because the hair was a dead giveaway that she was from the new sector of his life. He set her down in her tent as delicately as he could manage. "Elf or human."

All Jennessa's worries melted away as he set her down where she would sleep. It warmed her to her core to know that for this aspect of her, this persistently stubborn, uncontrollable, unmistakable curtain of fluffy red curls, she was special to him. She realized then that she didn't have to change for Tyson to like her more. He already cared about her, and felt happy confused feelings for her, just the way she did for him. Her cheeks turned pink and her heart raced and her smile was shy, but her eyes begged him not to leave her tent just yet. "Thank you." _For loving the one part of me that refused to change._

Tyson pressed a final kiss to her lips, still finding it hard to believe he could just DO so if he wanted. "I should leave." They had responsibilities. She needed a full night's rest for her spells, and he should check on Ellifain and keep watch anyway. He didn't really want to.

Jennessa sighed, knowing he was right. She brushed a lock of hair behind his ear and finally let her arms fall away from him. "Only because no one else is up to keep watch," she said playfully. "Otherwise, I wouldn't let you."

"I doubt I'd be able to put up much of a fight," he acquiesced. But the spark of a good-natured challenge lit up in his eyes. He looked over her features one last time. "Good night, Jennessa."

He returned to his beloved steed, who wore a knowing look, and urged her to go to bed as well, moving her closer to the campsite where the fire would provide some heat. Then he found a comfortable seat and tried to get his mind off of the beautiful woman not twenty feet away, his fingers absentmindedly tracing his cheek.


	9. Alignment Drift

"...And so I propose that we raise the minimum height of all doors and entrances to accommodate the orc ambassadors who visit from our allied nation," Eroth stated, before sitting properly back in his seat around the round table. Duirsar nodded enthusiastically besides him.

Sidhion's ears twitched, and he was astounded at the man's idiocy. _Yes, why don't we simply change the size of every entrance in Holimion for few dozen orcs who visit us annually?_ The city was made for the elves. He was sure Eroth didn't even imagine what it would do to the company- HIS company, were it to pass. Or perhaps he did... Even so, it would never be successful. From the corner of his vision, Phanyni paled substantially. He looked across the table to meet eyes with Saeran and say /give me a break/. Of course, it wasn't their place to speak up, as observers.

Eroth looked to the Aldmaes, waiting for them to mark it down, as he had made a very fine argument and he was sure there would be no opposition to such a practical-

"Might I suggest that the orcs simply.. lean down upon entering our buildings?" came a simple question from Allistair Nailo, phrased politely and yet powerfully. Sidhion bit his cheek not to smile.

Eroth glared, and started on a tirade about maintaining ties, and it wasn't long before others joined in.  
Vira put her fingers on her temples. _Honestly..._ As princess, she was allowed to speak up if she wished, but her duty was primarily to learn. Her eyes wandered to Saeran, and she blocked out the barking nobles as she wondered why he'd taken a sudden interest in her.  
The court was nearly in an uproar but Saeran had long since lost interest. Once the bill was put down for good, the charades could end and then the social proceedings could begin. And though his father constantly reminded him that his guilded tongue would bring honor to the Nailo family through politics, there was a very different reason why young Saeran had cause to care about these court meetings.  
He was trying very hard not to stare at her. She looked stunning, as she always did, dressed in yellow and perfectly put together. Every time she caught his eye it seemed his heart would stop. If only she knew how much time he spent thinking of her, how he wanted so desperately to be close to her that he'd done his very best to lead a kind, honest life the way she seemed to expect, why, then she'd have to return his feelings, wouldn't she? Saeran rubbed his neck, almost oblivious to the court proceeding that slowly but surely descended into chaos, and chanced yet another glance towards the head of the table at the Aldmaes, and their princess, and realized with a jolt that she'd been looking at him. He'd done something right. Saeran's heart thumped, against any protest, and their eyes locked across the courtroom, as if she couldn't care less about the meeting as well. It seemed to Saeran that he and Vira were the only two elves in the kingdom.  
Illona stared straight ahead and tried to pretend she was at a symphony instead of some dusty political meeting.  
Sidhion puffed up his cheeks and deflated slightly as he realized that Saeran wasn't even looking at him. No matter. He leaned him chin on his palm, bored, and waited for adults to sum up their argument. He knew Ilona was elsewhere. In fact, after a quick glance around, it seemed he was one of few still listening.

Vira mused for a moment longer, remembering the night he felt compelled to climb up her dwelling, before realizing he was looking back at her. Never one to back down, however, rather than avert her eyes she continued to watch him pensively, not giving any sort of expression one way or another. Her father speaking up took her attention.

"Enough," said the king. The voices quieted, though tensions were still burning.

"My lord, if I may," Stilmyst spoke up. Aldmae nodded his approval. "I believe it would be rather counterproductive.. to rebuild our city to these standards, while such a regulation would be much better suited for the trading city Mierta."

After a brief pause, the king nodded. "The bill is dismissed. We shall conclude this evening," he said, with such a note of finality that even Eroth looked down and relented. A scribe beside him scribbled furiously in lovely cursive, and rolled up his scroll. Then Vira leaned forward and touched the council bell with her finger, and a melodious chime ended the debate.

As if their anger was left at their chairs, most council members jovially headed into the ballroom next door, plastering business smiles to their faces once more.

The next room was a different scene entirely, with tables lines up and much too plentiful amounts of food for the small amount of dignitaries attending. Elevated was a single bard, playing softly on a flute, while a couple bewitched stringed instruments played beside her.

Vira stood up tall and proud and saw her parents to the center of the room. Then her eyes lit up as she spotted a large crystalline punch fountain, and she carried herself over to enjoy some much needed hydration for her dry throat.

Sidhion stood with his sister and followed after the Nailos, putting a large smile on his face and sauntering up behind Saeran who he found standing near a wall. "How kind of you to wait for me," he purred, playfully gripping Saeran's waist at an angle where no one could see.  
Forced back into reality, Saeran pushed Sidhion away though there was an amused sort of smile on his lips. "Come on, Sidhion. Behave yourself."  
"Me? I'm on my best behavior," Sidhion said mischievously, albeit moving away and leaning his shoulder against the wall. "I couldn't say the same for Rhalnor Dree," he tutted, gazing past Saeran to where the noble in question was 'subtly' brushing up against Duirsar's wife. "It isn't like you to be so distracted during a court meeting," he stated curiously.  
Saeran nodded vacantly. He was counting the number of exchanges he had to indulge Sidhion in before it would be polite to abandon him. Vira was on his mind all night. "Well, it wasn't the most enthralling subject matter. We all knew the outcome from the start. Now, if you'll forgive me, there is something that has been pressing me that I must now attend to. Enjoy your evening." He bowed gracefully, then turned on his heel and walked away with purpose and haste.  
Sidhion had expected to be pushed away, but not utterly abandoned so soon in the night. Normally, Saeran would entertain his company for at least twenty minutes. His expression dropped as Saeran moved away, and he pondered over the things they'd said in the last week or so as he found his sister Ilona, who was watching the bard with great interest. "Do you know this song?" he asked her, only partially interested as his eyes followed his dear friend.

Vira sipped her punch, which was quite tart but in a way that was still somehow pleasurable. She found herself talking to a couple, answering the usual questions about her plans to rule when she took the kingdom, and excusing herself with a polite smile to start across the room toward Eroth. It was important for routine damage control, and to reassure council members lest they lust for the throne. Even if she thought the man was an imbecile.  
Saeran walked briskly, and in his pounding heart it seemed there was nothing left in the world but Vira and that little glass of punch she sipped so daintily. He had to swallow before he could speak with her-somehow, Vira made all of his charm irrelevent. _She'd been looking at you,_ Saeran reminded himself. He caught her at last, and immediately took a deep and cordial bow. "Good evening, Princess," Saeran said, as smoothly as he could with his nerves wreaking havoc the way they were.

Illona tore her eyes from the talented musician to adress her brother, if breifly. "Not in this accompaniment." She rested her chin on her palms and continued to slowly swing her legs, as if she wasn't aware it was happening. "It's a marvelous choice. Don't you like it?"  
Sidhion hummed lazily in assent. "It's pleasant. Of course, I prefer your voice to it all," he said truthfully. Distantly, he could see Saeran walk right up to Vira, and his heart burned. _Naturally, he would try again.._ Hopefully, she would reject him yet again. She seemed none too fond of him at the Lamara festival.

Vira gave a responsive gesture and said, "Hello Saeran." She had been expecting him to approach her at some time or other. She was working to form more of a friendship than merely a tolerance with him, so she stopped to talk with him. "I hope you are enjoying yourself," she said politely. He was dressed up as well, and looked as devilishly handsome as always. His smile, however, twinged with what she assumed were nerves before evening out.  
"Moreso now," Saeran said with a wider smile. "I'm sure I'm not the first to mention that you look stunning tonight." Honesty is what she wanted to see from him, after all. He cleared his throat as he resolved to throw caution to the wind, and took a knee before his princess. "It had been my hope that Your Highness would accompany me for a dance," he said confidently, though it was all he could do to keep his offered hand from shaking. _Oh, please Vira, don't leave me on the floor like this._  
The corners of her mouth curved upward as she could tell that he meant it. Flattery, perhaps, but better than lies. Others around the ballroom had taken notice (including one particularly sharp pair of eyes trained upon them), and she knew she could not refuse. Even her parents could see her from here. Handing her nearly finished glass to a servant, she placed her hand delicately into his. "I think I could manage a song or two," she said with a cool smile. Internally, however, she feared what the implications of such a civil notion would mean to Saeran. And yet, her heart rate quickened slightly in excitement, for he was still the most skilled dancer she had ever partnered with.

Sidhion's ears fell and he folded his arms sourly, tearing his eyes from the two as they made their way to the dance floor. "I see. Something pressing," he mumbled bitterly, as he fetched him and his sibling a refreshment. _Rather, someone._

Saeran could have sworn that he heard only bells when she spoke. He rose to his feet, somewhat disbeliving, and guided her by her smooth, soft hand, walking with as much pride and grace as he possessed. He had Princess Vira by the hand, and nothing was more important. "How far we have come," he said softly as he took her waist on the dance floor.  
"We've walked thirty feet," came her quick muttered reply before she could help herself. She knew that wasn't what he'd meant. She put a hand on his shoulder and looked up at him with a quirked brow. "But I daresay we're getting along with much more social grace." They begun their waltz, ever as elegant as it was before, but now on display for all of their peers. She could imagine the gossip already. 'Imagine, the princess Aldmae dancing with a Nailo!' _Not the right Nailo.._

Illona had her eyes closed as she lost herself in the music, and didn't open them until Sidhion returned with a drink. "Thank you brother," she said obligingly. "You treat me much nicer than a boy would. Why are you upset?" She tilted her head as she noticed the stormclouds in Sidhion's eyes.  
Sidhion turned toward his sister, feeling the urge to pull her close for comfort, as he'd always been keen for contact. He hadn't truly discussed his falling for Saeran Nailo, but everyone knew they'd had a sort of falling out, and there wasn't a doubt in Sidhion's mind that his sister knew the reason. "Tell me, what do you think of princess Vira?" he asked her. Perhaps he was being petty. But she didn't understand Saeran Nailo as he. They'd practically been raised together.  
Illona smirked into her cup "I like her. She has a powerful will. One day she'll be a good queen, I think. Why?" Sidhion kept breaking eye contact with her. She followed his gaze and at last noticed the dance. How odd...

Saeran watched her emerald eyes and chuckled lightly at her joke. He moved Vira gently and as skillfully as he could, because she deserved a dance worth remembering. "They all seem to be watching." He spun her around him slowly, with a practiced finesse and both of them in perfect form. "But to tell you the truth...I couldn't care less."  
Her heart squeezed oddly at those words. "Is that so?" Vira's natural grace complimented his own expertise, and they were a sight to behold. She was used to being watched however. It was a part of her life. Why was he saying such personal things at a time like this? "You're in a rather good mood," she commented, hoping he would break that lovestruck gaze sometime soon.  
"Of course I am." Didn't Vira realize he'd been looking forward to his all week? Saeran dared to pull her closer to him, brushing the side of his head against her prefectly silky hair. "I'm with you." Moving with Vira and holding her close... Saeran smiled to himself, a small reflection of the bliss pumping in his heart, to think that this is where he belonged.

Of course Ilona liked Vira. Because Vira was perfect. He hated the way Saeran spun her, rather more carefully than just any girl he was wooing, Sidhion thought. Like she's something precious... And then he saw the smile on Saeran's face. It was genuine. "Why can't I.." _make you that happy._ He thought that Saeran was going rather far for this pursuit. Wasn't the princess more troublesome than she was worth?  
Illona too was watching the noblest couple twirl across the floor. "You stare at Saeran too much," she remarked softly. "Why didn't you tell me he was in love with Vira?"  
Sidhion's world shattered, and he actually stumbled to his knees in silent agony, holding his heart. Why did she have to say it out loud? He took a few shuddering breaths. _Will I never be enough?_ He knew that Saeran hadn't felt the same.. YET.. but now he had gone and fallen for the one woman that Sidhion Stilmyst couldn't outdo. One who was bound to break his heart. "Life is so cruel," he said wretchedly. Saeran's all he could ever think about anymore.

This was much too intimate. This was much too.. Vira spun herself in the dance, allowing her to readjust their positions so that she was once again an appropriate distance. "A tad too bold," she said in slight warning. These feelings were NOT mutual, and this was just what she was worried about. It was difficult enough to keep up herself when he was close enough that she could feel his heat, feel his breath.. she didn't need to feel his heart as well.  
Saeran's smile slipped away, and he tried not to show how worried he was that she would leave him for the night. How brief their meetings seemed to be, and then he'd gone and made her uncomfortable. He never wanted to cause anything unpleasant for his dear Vira. "My apologies, Princess. Please forgive me." _It's really not my fault when your smile glows the way it does..._ He was trying to get over the loss of that wonderful closeness, but was determined to win her favor back so she would at least finish the dance. Saeran lifted Vira by the waist and guided her in a graceful leap.  
And then he lifted her, and she blushed, startled, but had no choice but to go along with it, to the awe and murmurs of the folks around. They really made a pair.. And at last the melody finished, and thank goodness too, for this had already carried out for much too long. She tried not to pull her hand from his fingers so quick as to be rude (though she swore she could still feel his hands upon her), and then bowed courteously. "That was lovely. You're quite skilled on your feet," she complimented honestly. For a second, Saeran looked like his brother, and then an enamored smile graced her features before disappearance just as quickly.

Illona was surprised by Sidhion's dramatic reaction. Couldn't he tell? Couldn't everyone? She set her punch down on the bench and lifted her diva of a brother back off the ground. "I-I'm sorry. I thought you knew."  
Lona helped him sit on the bench beside her, as he was much too distraught to move. The love of his life had fallen for another... He looked down at himself. His expensive and polished appearance, arguably flawless. Save for one large, immutable defect...

He was a boy.

"I... didn't," he whispered. "He never tells me things anymore." Their friendship was going through a sort of rough patch.. or had been since he confessed, but he still talked to Saeran often. And he knew that one day, his presence would stop grating on Saeran's nerves, and their unparalleled connection could be rekindled. "Why, just a few months ago.." _he barely paid Vira a second glance._ He hugged himself. "Lona, why aren't I enough?"  
"Because he's an imbecile who wants only what he cannot have," Illona said calmly as she rubbed her brother's back reassuringly. "He's really not worth all this emotion, Sidhion. Please calm down." Saeran really made her blood boil for the things he did to her poor brother's heart.

Saeran found his heartbeat reduced to a flutter as Vira smiled at him, cheeks pink, praising him. Things could not have gone better. "Oh, the pleasure was mine, Vira." He hesitated to take his eyes away from her, but bowed deeply because it would be terribly rude not to. "Whenever you wish to dance again, I am at your disposal." Saeran grinned, smile almost completely lacking its usual sinister intent. Her sweet smile was hidden, but it had appeared nonetheless. Could he push his luck? "Might I keep you company at the buffet?"  
"I am flattered, but perhaps one dance is enough for tonight," Vira declined. The way he said it, she was almost positive he had left it open-ended for a reason. Though she enjoyed the challenge of matching his fluidity and speed, her shoes were not so forgiving as his, however. She looked to the seats near the buffet. "As for your question, I'd hate for you to grow bored of me. I'm simply going to be mingling with members and their families. You're free to enjoy your night." _I don't want to encourage rumors. Or you._

Sidhion shook his head, and let out a heartbroken whine as he let himself melt into her touch. Because Saeran was worth everything, and Ilona couldn't understand that. "I apologize for my behavior," he managed. He could barely breathe in this room. "Perhaps.. I should go.." Because all of this seemed pointless now. For so many years, Saeran had made a mockery of his feelings. And he'd pretended it hadn't torn him to shreds as he laughed along. Where was the meaning in any of this?  
"You're going to let him ruin your whole evening? Come on, you haven't even eaten." Illona held her brother close and glared over his shoulder at Saeran as he bid the princess goodbye. _Once dance and my brother is in shambles. Was it worth it?_ "I thought he was getting nicer lately. Clearly I was wrong. Oh, you're shaking. It's okay Sidhion." She rubbed his shoulders furiously and made gentle cooing noises in an attempt to calm him down. Illona desperately needed his company at this stupid banquet anyway.

"I could never tire of you," Saeran said softly. Then he straightened his posture and nodded understandingly. "I won't keep you. Farewell, my lady." He wanted to say "my love" and oh how close he came, but he was too afraid of chasing her away for good. It was enough for the night. More than he'd ever done in the past. He knew his dancing and his words had made a lasting impression, and so did everyone else in the council. With this crowd, his gesture of taking a knee to ask her to dance was as blatent and ostentatious as singing her name from the battlements. But that wasn't such a bad thing. For once Saeran had no secrets to keep. His heart belonged to Vira, and everyone should know they were a perfect fit.  
Vira nodded, relieved that he'd the sense to separate for the evening. "Good bye. Try not to break any girls' hearts tonight," she said nonchalantly, giving him a coy smile and brushing past him. She had begged him to be honest with her, but he was unrelenting in his compliments and his simple responses that left so little to mystery. She knew that she would have to confront him about it if things continued to progress as they were. She found Eroth not long after spent the remainder of her time at the event fraternizing. More than once, she had been told that she made a dazzling couple with the elder Nailo. She carefully but indisputably put an end to such comments.

"I'm not hungry," he said bitterly. Sidhion knew he was acting like a child. But how could he help it? This love for Saeran had developed during just such a time of innocence, and only grown stronger since then. He felt like Saeran was slipping away from him, and there was nothing he could do.. "How is it okay?" he asked desperately.

Saeran smiled to himself and ran his hand over the spot where she last brushed against him. It wasn't an easy conquest but he knew he could win her over now, if only with time. He wandered away, stars in his eyes, to the table with the other nobles, and did his best to participate in conversation without completely losing himself in Vira's memory.

To think Lona was the younger sibling... "You're too good for him anyway. Now you can forget about Saeran and find a boy who actually cares about you." Nope, that didn't seem to help. Illona sighed. As much as she hated supporting Sidhion's wild pursuit, she thought this might help him cheer up. "I doubt she feels the same way." she muttered begrudgingly.  
Sidhion's eyes widened in realization, and almost theatrically his body lifted and perked back to life at the prospect of saving his undying love. "No.. no of course she doesn't. How could she? Naturally, he's just another suitor who's chasing after the immaculate princess. She doesn't know Saeran." And then anger flared, unfamiliar yet powerful. "She doesn't care.."  
He stood. "I need to speak with him. He doesn't realize he's making a mistake."  
"That's really not what I-" But he was gone. Illona buried her face in her hand with a frustrated sigh. He smiled, at least, but then he ran after Saeran, AGAIN, like a fool, and left her at the mercy of kids her age.  
Sidhion found Saeran carelessly socializing and spoke with all the confidence a power child could have. "Can we speak?" It wasn't really much of a question, as many, and certainly one who knew him as well as Saeran, could notice the uncharacteristic burning in his eyes. He was fired up, and yet when Saeran's beautiful eyes met with his, he just felt vulnerable.  
Saeran found himself interrupted with a surprisingly intense Sidhion. It was rare to see his old friend so serious. "...ah, yes, I suppose we can." And Saeran rose uncertainly to his feet. The last time Sidhion had something he so needed to say, it put a real dent in their relationship. What could it be this time, he wondered.  
Leading Saeran to the nearest remote location for privacy (which incidentally was the empty council room), his heart hammered dangerously. He swallowed, clenching his fists... He remembered when they were children vacationing in Beylin. They had talked the old man into giving them cream Treese puffs for free, and had been enjoying them by the stream when they were confronted by elves- in their fifties at least- who were jealous. Feeling overconfident, he had attempted to trick the boys into buying them something to drink. Sidhion had gotten too caught up to realize that his words weren't working. But Saeran hadn't. Sidhion had nearly been pushed over the bridge, but Saeran had jumped in and instead, they simply lost their snacks.  
Those were the days that they had been inseparable. And they were also the days that were largely responsible for Sidhion's unremitting devotion. And with this in mind, he turned on his heel and leaned into Saeran's face with a piercing gaze. "Don't allow our quarrel to taint my message. Take this from a friend who cares about you. Who's always cared," he said softly. "She's going to break your heart."  
Saeran had expected some plea for attention, or for Sidhion to share a secret with him, or maybe confront him for his curtness earlier. Any would have been understandable, if insignificant, but this... Saeran took a step back and stared at Sidhion. He couldn't be talking about Vira like this, could he? She wouldn't try to hurt him. No, he was only just getting her to warm up to him. It was all going to be smooth from here. Right? How could she 'break his heart'? That was only a turn of phrase used by poets and fools. "You don't know what you're talking about," Saeran said coolly.  
Sidhion glared. "Don't I? You're too infatuated to see it, Saeran. You're being reckless," he said in irritation. What was he thinking? Pouring his heart out to a girl who he barely knew? If his words weren't getting through now, they never would. Saeran Nailo was not one to be commanded. And he could see the frustration in Saeran's shoulders, despite his demeanor.  
"I am not infatuated." Even Saeran didn't believe it, but he wouldn't stand down for Sidhion. His ears were turning red and he struggled to speak at a normal volume despite his anger. "This is really none of your business, Sidhion. It would do you well to stay out of matters than don't concern you." _Vira will love me back soon,_ he thought as he recalled her gazing at him across the court, and the way she gave that flirtatious smile and brushed past him. _You wait and see. I'm winning her._  
Sidhion's mouth dropped open. "None of my business?" _Anything with you concerns me._ "Perhaps you're right. And yet I always seem to be overstepping your boundaries, isn't that right?" he said hotly, advancing dangerously close. All intentions of making this about Saeran and not himself flew out the window. "Like right now. You can't stand me, can you?" His deepened voice quivered with a repressed rage, and his lips were inches from Saeran's. _Do I disgust you?_  
Saeran turned his face away as a snarl curled his lips. "Well, yes, this would be a prime example of you forcing yourself in my life when it is unwanted." He put a hand on Sidhion's chest and backed away until his arm was extended. There were more hurtful things he could have said, but it would do little good. _Just leave me alone,_ Saeran thought to himself, looking at Sidhion in disappointment. They didn't always fight. No, there was a time when Sidhion would have done anything for him. But the voice he spoke with now made Saeran sure those days were long gone.  
Sidhion would always be unwanted, it would seem. The look Saeran gave him just now.. There was anger, yes. But also a sadness that made Sidhion stagger back from Saeran's touch. He clenched his teeth. He needed to leave before he wrecked their friendship beyond repair. "Alright. Do you what you must. Shove me away, it's hardly new. But when your princess hurts you, I don't need to hear about it," he said lividly. _It's not true.. If you ever want to talk, I'll listen. If you can bear my company._ For once he was too emotional to hide himself behind his jovial facade, and so all the hurt was there on his face. "Allow me to remove myself from your presence," he said, bowing curtly and flicking his ears in silent imprecation. And he strode to the door to let himself out. He was collecting his sister, and they were going home.  
Saeran sighed to himself as the door slammed shut. He didn't need Sidhion, he told himself. He didn't need anyone. _except Vira._ Sidhion was only jealous. 'His princess' was just that, his. Everyone in the court could see it. She belonged at his side, the perfect pair of clever, beautiful, powerful elves destined to rule the city. She wasn't pushing him away any more, and it was only a matter of time before his charms wore her down and she'd love him back. Him and her, forever. He held onto that thought and tried to forget about Sidhion's proclamations and his sheer inexplicable anger. He had better things to worry about.

"You're free to go." Vira gracefully marched up the steps of Nailo Estate, where she hadn't been in several decades. Her guards reluctantly bid her farewell. Vira had an agenda today, and she wouldn't be needing them to escort her home. Rather, a very handsome Nailo would accompany her. Her heart fluttered at the thought. But she'd been speaking to him regularly at the academy (even if she had to command him to wait for her), and it was to the point he would occasionally approach her in the halls. Every time he did, Vira was elated. Today, he would take her out. Of course, she had to find him first. Knocking on the front door, she folded her hands and waited patiently for a servant to answer.  
The door was opened promptly by a young servant with stiff, practiced posture. Wyn felt a wave of surprise to see the Princess herself in the doorway, and had to take a moment to blink and confirm the sight in front of him, before he snapped into a bow. "Your Majesty." he muttered cordially.  
Vira chuckled, giving a polite nod. What a proper servant. "Such formalities are not necessary." _I'm a guest._ "I'm here to see Tyson. Would you show me to him?" she requested, stepping inside. The decor was lovely. Not as lavish as her home, but visually magnificent, as the Nailo's manor should be. She brushed her hair over her ear when her she felt butterflies again. _We're friends, he'll come out._ But she knew he would. If only she wasn't just as nervous as she was excited about spending the day with him.  
Wyn was very glad to recieve instrustions, because he hadn't the fainest clue what procedure to follow when a princess walks up to the front door. "Of course, madam. Please follow me." He shut the door gently and turned to lead her along the hall and up the stairs, where he rapped lightly on the door and cleared his throat. "Master Tyson, there is a...guest here for you." Wyn called politely.  
Tyson was at his desk, staring at some incredibly dull poem he'd been assigned to read and interpret, and then sat, surprised, for a second. Guest? Who would bother to come visit him? He opened the door, confusion on his face, to find Vira grinning at him.  
And there he stood, with his standard nonplussed expression. He wasn't quite dressed for going out, and his hair was disheveled, but she thought he looked perfect. She could even see part of his chest, and she was careful not to blush. Certainly Saeran would be considered more handsome by most, but Tyson had that sort of boyish charm and ruggedness that Vira craved. She had been surrounded by untrustworthy, smooth talking nobles every day for her entire life, and she couldn't find herself falling in love with someone of that sort. But Tyson Nailo was different- something new and thrilling.  
Vira smiled happily. "Good morning, Tyson. I hope you don't have plans for today," she said in her commanding voice, which left no room for demur. She wore her tailored riding gear, unique in Holimion, that flattered her form perfectly.  
The way Vira spoke, Tyson was pretty sure that she wouldn't take no for an answer even if he did have plans. Usually she only sequestered his time after class or during breaks, but now she was content to walk right through his house. But doing things with Vira was usually enjoyable, and definitely more insteresting than studying fancy writing. Tyson stepped into the hall and shut the door to his room. "Not really."  
"Excellent. I was hoping to do something fun today, and I figured we don't see one another nearly enough outside of class. Come riding with me?" She knew that any reservations he may possess would dissipate with the mention of horses, and riding them. "You may have your pick of mount," she said enticingly. Normally the regal stables housed steeds specifically for elite royal guard, (and the Aldmae's personal stallions), but Vira had the right to use them for whatever she deemed necessary. And today, going on a date with Tyson Nailo was so very necessary.  
Tyson barely had to think about it. "I'll get my coat." She was offering him a day to ride with any horse from the entire royal stable and he wasn't sure he'd ever get that chance again, even if he became a guard like his parents tried to goad him to be. He headed downstairs with Vira, excersicing all self-control in an effort not to outright run out of the manor.  
His childlike enthusiasm was the most adorable thing Vira had ever seen, and she reminded herself not to jump up in victory. "And I didn't even have to order you," Vira teased, opening the door while Tyson pulled on his piece of clothing. "What were you doing before I came?"  
Tyson shrugged once he got the fine jacket over his shoulders. He'd button it later, after they were clear of the manor. "It wasn't important," he said, disinterested. He couldn't even remember the title of the poem any more. Vira had probably already read it inside and out and written her whole response by now. It was more important to get out the door before Saeran tried to stop them from leaving, like he usually did. Tyson didn't understand why Saeran insisted on keeping him from having any fun, but he would definitely try to interfere if he knew Tyson and Vira were going horseback riding without him. "Let's go."

Saeran was upstairs in the library, browsing some mildly interesting historical text, when he by chance glanced out the window and noticed royal guards outside his house. Saeran's heart nearly jumped out of his chest as he leapt to his feet. Rather than wait to be persued, Vira had come to him this time. He wouldn't keep her waiting.  
Saeran had to pause momentarily at a mirror to adjust his collar and his hair, somewhat disbelieving but also thrilled. She was here! And he'd been worried that she had started to lose interest in him... When Saeran made it to the foyer, he was surprised and sort of disappointed not to see his princess waiting for him. But then she didn't appear in the parlor or in the sitting room either. Saeran glanced out the window to see if the guards, or maybe the king or a messenger was outside still, and could hardly believe his eyes when he noticed Vira in the distance walking away from the manor...with Tyson in tow. Saeran was immediately suspicious. He didn't know what was going on... but he needed to find out.

"Gladly," Vira lead the way out the door and down the path toward her family's ground access which would take them where they needed to be. She looked anxiously back at the building, hoping that a certain sibling hadn't spotted them. She didn't mind his company, but she'd had about enough of him stopping her plans. Maybe some day in the future, when their relationship had solidified, she could come over to the estate and learn what life was like from Tyson's perspective. What his home life was like.  
"I know your parents don't travel often. But you've ridden before, haven't you?" She started conversation. She loved when Tyson talked about his past, so that she could learn more about him. She loved when he spoke to her regardless. Vira pulled the strings of her bodice absentmindedly as they walked together, knowing she was fair, but wondering if Tyson thought so. _A romantic day with Tyson Nailo.._  
For all the time he'd spent admiring horses and their riders from afar, he'd never before had the chance to actually ride one. "Not exactly," he said, as if it didn't matter to him. He stared at the path in front of them. "I just... I always wanted one," he said more quietly. He hoped she wouldn't care that he didn't know how to ride a horse. Yet.  
Vira could see the longing in his eyes. _Oh Tyson.._ She straightened up. "Well that settles it, I'm going to take it upon myself to teach you to mount. It's kind of an important skill to have if you intend to buy one, don't you think?" Vira laughed. Maybe she could talk him into sharing a horse with her today! And then he would have to wrap his arms around her.. "If you decide you truly enjoy it, I could use an ongoing riding partner." She hoped that he would see the kindness in her offer, and not be taken aback by how forward she was being. She would take her horse out every day if it was with Tyson.  
Tyson's mouth twitched into a smile. "If that's what you want..." He couldn't think of anything better than getting out of his house regularly for a few hours to go riding around the ground. His parents and brother couldn't tell him no when it was on royal decree, after all.  
Vira swooned inside. That smile.. Her cheeks tinged with pink. "If it's what YOU want, Tyson. You know I enjoy your company. But you don't have to agree because I'm the princess," she pressed, wanting to hear him speak his mind. They walked up to the access shaft, and a servant operated the controls for them, allowing them to be lowered the very steep descent on the platform. Vira thought she felt eyes on her, but brushed it off. She was alone on the elevator with Tyson, there was no one else.  
Tyson rubbed at his neck awkwardly. He wasn't accoustomed to opening up to people like she seemed to expect him to. "Yeah. It sounds good." he said plainly. Tyson supposed if she was willing to take him riding on her family's beautiful, powerful horses, she probably wanted him to talk more. And he didn't want her to think he was ungrateful.

Saeran had donned a dark green cloak before leaving the manor, to blend in with the trees while he tailed his brother from a respectable distance. He didn't dare move close enough to make out the words they were saying, and have Vira shoo him away. No, he just needed to know what her plans with Tyson were. And why. He noticed they chose to take the mechanical shaft, and he knew he woudln't be able to catch up if he had to wait for it to return to their level. So once they had begun to approach the floor, Saeran hurried for the staircase to keep a close eye on them.

Vira rolled her eyes playfully. _That's all I'm getting out of him._ "Alright then. But it will depend on how well you can balance," she said as they reached the floor, and she stepped off toward the stables. Her horse was already tacked up and saddled, but true to her word, she let Tyson into the stable to take his pick. Some members of the elite guard narrowed their eyes at the noble brat who had permission to borrow any of their horses. "You're welcome to ride Anelace with me, if you'd like." She figured he would rather have his own, but offered anyway. These creatures were the best trained in the kingdom, so either way Tyson should have an easy time learning.  
Tyson tried not to let his excitement show, but the longer he looked at the horses the less he seemed to remember there were people around. He examined them slowly, let a few sniff his hand, listened to their neighing, before his sight fell on a sweet chestnut bay whose big eyes were staring back into his. She nickered softly at him, and Tyson slowly reached out his hand to pet her nose. She snorted and closed her huge eyes, twitching her ears at him in a way that just melted Tyson's heart. He turned to Vira. "How about this one?"  
Such wonderment in his eyes.. she hoped he would come to gaze at her in that way. Vira smiled. "She's beautiful." She stepped forward, pulling out the saddle and reigns herself to give Tyson the full experience. "Help me with this," she handed him the straps, purposefully brushing her hands against his, and directed him. "There's a trail that wraps around Holimion," she told him as they prepared the lovely mare. "That's the one I normally take. And there' a training ground somewhere along the way, where we could stop for lunch," she explained, standing nearer than necessary as they finished preparing.  
Tyson nodded, eyes wide as he tried to take in every detail about the riding tack. One day he'd have a steed of his own, noble and loyal, and he'd ride that horse into dangerous ruins and they'd vanquish foes together. But for now, lunch would do. They could watch the skill of training warriors while they filled their belly. "Alright, yeah. Let's do that." Even though they were in a stable, the scent that filled Tyson's nose was a lot more sweet, like rosemary and clovers. When he finally looked away from his day's mount, Vira seemed like she was a little too close now that she'd finished helping him with the gear. Why was she looking at him like that? He should have brushed his hair before going out. "What's her name?"  
Vira looked up at him as she fastened the final buckle and realized she'd moved closer than intended. Which wasn't a bad thing, as Tyson wasn't backing away. She could feel his breath from here.. She blinked and realized that he had asked her a question. "Oh, the mare?" Vira asked, reaching over to stroke her muzzle when she realized she'd been staring MUCH too long. "I couldn't say. She belongs to one of the guards.. we could ask around. Or you could give her one," Vira offered, giving Tyson a smile and handing him the reigns. The horse tossed its head eagerly and trotted forward, watching Tyson.  
Tyson brushed past Vira and patted the horse's neck, to which she pranced in excitement. "I'm going to call her Tanna for today," he said softly. She seemed to like that name. He could hardly wait to get out in the open with his first mount. "I think I'm ready. Are you?" Tyson asked Vira, already stepping towards the exit.  
"Aren't I always? Vira asked, straightening her ensemble and returning to her own chipper steed. She led the way around the side of the stables and began instructing Tyson on the ways of horseback. "I'm going to assume you're new to all of it. So watch me." She stepped up and righted herself in one motion. "Don't make it difficult or you'll confuse her. And only get on her from this side." She continued on to explain how the horses were trained, and which motion of the reigns meant what. How to accelerate, turn, stop, and simply ride for an extended period. Her lesson was quick, to the point, and simple enough. "That should be enough for now. Go ahead and get on Tanna.." she smiled at the name, "and we'll be on our way. You'll pick up the rest quickly enough." She circled Anelace around to be in front of Tyson.  
Tyson never paid half as much attention in class as he was to Vira while she taught him about horses. He straightened up, like she showed him, and slowly put his weight on the stirrups. It felt more natural than he expected. Tanna snorted in approval and Tyson pulled himself easily onto the saddle. "Alright..." He gathered up the reigns uncertainly and glanced at Vira for guidance. _How do I get her to move?_  
"You're a natural." Vira smiled proudly, wishing he paid this much attention to her every word regularly. She silently motioned with her reigns before doing the action to move herself forward. Hopefully the explanation was clear. _Just do what I do._ The site of Tyson, tall and handsome bestride a horse, did things to her, and the light fell upon him perfectly. His posture seemed practiced and experienced, and she wondered if he was really new at this. But his expression said enough.  
Tyson sort of doubted that she meant it...but then, Vira was a lot more honest than most people. He nodded after her, feeling fairly confident in his ability to control his borrowed horse. "Lead the way."

Suddenly two handsome figures went galloping away from the royal stables and Saeran swore under his breath. Tyson. Vira. He couldn't pursue them on foot any more, but he had no horse he could follow on either. Unless...  
Saeran raced up to the guarded entrance to the stables and leaned on his knees to "catch his breath". "Oh, good gracious. I'm not too late. Would you kindly let me in?" he panted to the soldier at the door.  
"Official business only." the guard said stiffly, without looking down at Saeran.  
Saeran looked up at him incredulously. "You... you're kidding." When it was clear he wasn't, Saeran gave an exhausted chuckle. "Figures Vira would have me locked out of the race. Listen, they're playing a little joke. And a dirty trick at that. I need to get in and grab a horse before they shut me out of the contest for good." The guard's ears twitched, but his expression was unyielding. Saeran moved in for the kill. "I'll have him back before sundown, honest. No one will know I was here. And perhaps I could make it worth your interest..." Saeran flashed a gold coin between his fingers, eyebrow cocked. There was a genuine desperation in his eyes. The guard was still for a moment longer, staring straight ahead, before he sighed to himself and unlatched the gate for Saeran. "The silver dapple will go unnoticed. Have her back by nightfall," the guard muttered as he took Saeran's bribe.

Vira started at an easy pace down to the forest trail (one of the guards must have kept his eyes trained on them, for she felt again she was being observed). _Lead the way._ She led so many people to so many places day in and day out, and yet this would never be a chore. He followed behind her for a bit, Tanna more than understanding his intentions, and when Vira thought he'd mastered the basic maneuverability, she moved to the side and slowed up enough that they were side by side. Now should could see him. She started chatting away about school, home, horses, anything really that she knew Tyson would have a piece to say about. Though he was rather reserved in many respects, she occasionally managed to stumble on a topic he was particularly passionate about, and she'd witnessed no rawer, unadulterated emotion. And she SO enjoyed seeing that carefree smile..  
Tyson was enjoying himself more than he expected to. Even talking with Vira came naturally after some time. He felt like he could trust her. With his brother far away and the rythmic hoofbeats of their horses, Tyson was completely relaxed and his tongue was loosened. Getting to know Vira felt right, even if she was the princess and he'd have to obey her every command, if the time came.  
Oh, Vira could most definitely see herself doing this for a few hours a week. Tyson seemed more at ease than she'd ever truly seen him in public. In his element. She could see he didn't belong in those stiff courtrooms and banquets with high collars and big words and backstabbing. Give the boy a horse, and he'd never complain. She found a lot of his opinions intriguing, but consistent with his character. Tyson felt something about everything. It was just a matter of twisting his arm to get him to say anything. They'd been going leisurely for the better part of an hour now, and Vira grinned mischievously suddenly. "Ready?" she asked, lifting a daring brow.  
Tyson looked over at Vira curiously. The playful look in her eyes was all the explanation he needed, and he gripped the reigns firmly with a smirk. "You're on."

Saeran's horse was less than happy about the task she was employed for. It was probably due to Saeran's frenzied nature and little expertise, but he wasted no time in getting her out the door and following Tyson and Vira's tracks despite her neighs of protest.

"Don't get cocky." Vira tightened her grip, raising the reigns and then tossing them. "Hya!" Immediately, Anelace shot off as though she'd been waiting for her master to give her permission this entire time. The trail was on a bit of an incline, but even enough not to be of any concern for these warhorses. Vira laughed as she pulled in front, the wind flying into her face and making her hair the most wild it had ever been before anyone but her parents and servants. She was sure she looked anything but proper, but there was no one out here to care.  
Tyson flicked the reigns in mimicry and nudged Tanna's sides with his boots, and she tore off after Vira and Anelace with no time to lose. They were out in the wild with no one to judge or reprimand them, and Tyson couldn't help but smile even if he was behind. Winning didn't matter. It only mattered that they were free.

At this faster pace, they reached the training ground in no time, which was situated near a clearing as to provide as much space as possible. The compound itself had a few men training, who stood at attention as they passed, but it was rather empty as many elves liked to be home at this point in the day. Vira trotted up to a fence post and dismounted, bending to stretch out her legs carefully before securing Anelace's reigns to the rail. She stood and waited for Tyson to do the same. He was a fast learner.. Her face was flushed with joy and invigoration at this point, and she could see that Tyson's was the same way. She laughed then. "If your hair looks like that, I can only imagine how I look." She lifted her hand and a contained was brought to her by a servant containing a simple lunch for the two of them.  
Tyson dismounted less than gracefully and petted Tanna's nose appreciatively. "You look fine," Tyson muttered, glancing over the mare's head at Vira. He much prefered the look of her in practical dress with the wind in her hair. He shrugged it off and tied Tanna's leads next to Vira's steed. Lunch was a much-needed sight, Tyson's stomach reminded him as he noticed the pile of strawberries that was provided as part of their meal. He stood by Vira and offered to take the platter wordlessly.  
His eyes lit up, and Vira chuckled and handed the food to him. "Let's find somewhere to sit," she said, popping a strawberry into her mouth and finding them an area in the grass that was farther away from the sparring elves so that they wouldn't be bothered. They were still in view of their horses, however, which she thought Tyson would appreciate. "Is this alright?" Vira plopped down, sitting down cross legged. The grass here was lush and lovely, and felt incredible under her fingers. It was one of her favorite things about leaving the trees.  
Tyson lowered himself onto the soft grass and set the food in between them. "It's great." He glanced at the horses for a moment as they munched on the lush greenery. "I'm sure they're thirsty," he said with a level of concern.  
Vira's eyes softened fondly. A servant would bring the horses water in a moment, but Tyson's care was touching. "Would you like to get them something to drink?" He cared so much for something so innocent. She wondered if he'd be just as wonderful a father.  
Tyson nodded and got back to his feet. "Of course I would." He glanced at Vira to ask where they could find a bucked and a pump, but she had the strangest look in her eyes. It made him feel vulnerable. "Is something wrong?"  
Vira cleared her throat and stood up. "Not at all... You're a good person, Tyson," she complimented vaguely and turned without waiting to see his reaction. "This way." They came up to a pump that was beautifully built, and shone in the sun before them. She took a pail and placed it underneath, standing aside for Tyson to operate it. "This pump is supposed to be difficult to use, as a training exercise," she explained. But she was sure he was strong enough to manage it. She looked at his arms, thinking of the muscles hidden under the cloth there.  
She thought he was a 'good person'? That was a compliment Tyson wasn't really used to hearing. More likely he was told he was a disappointment, an outcast, a dreamer... but Vira thought he was 'good'. It made Tyson swell with unexpected pride as he strode over to prove his strength against the water pump. "It seems sort of cruel to make them work so hard for a drink of water," he muttered, throwing his weight on the pump and getting it, with a creak, to flow clear, cold water into the pail.  
"Perhaps," said Vira, watching him appreciatively. "But they're the best of the best. A lot of them turn it into a competition," she said idly, her eyes centered on his shoulders. As princess, and future general, she'd taken a keen interest in the operations of her guards and soldiers, and she was a regular sight at many military bases. "That's plenty, Tyson." Vira lifted the bucket with ease and handed it to him, gesturing to the basin next to Anelace. The horses stamped their feet and nickered in anticipation.  
Tyson took hold of the bucket, brushing up against her soft hand accidentally. When she removed her hand, Tyson found it unexpectedly heavy for the amount of effort Vira seemed to put into lifting it. He looked up at her, perplexed. The princess was stronger than she appeared. With the sight of soldiers fencing over her shoulder, Tyson started to wonder... He shook his head and carried the bucket easily away, to the stamping horses who so desperately needed a drink.

In the trees, Saeran tied his ornery steed up to a tree and tiptoed through the woods closer to the clearing where Tyson and Vira had stopped. They seemed to go through a lot of effort to get away from the city, and yet... when he caught sight of them, they were just eating and talking. _What does she want with him?_ Saeran wondered. _What could anyone want out of my naive, unsophisticated brother?_

Vira's fingers twitched reactively and she quickly pulled her hand away, which was the opposite of what she truly wanted to do. Once Anelace and Tanna were enjoying the fresh water Tyson had supplied, he and Vira had returned to their lunch. Also provided to them were some danishes, a light salad, and roasted turnips. Vira reclined in the sun, that so often was covered by Lamara branches, and chewed thoughtfully. "What do you plan to do when you're grown?" Her own occupation had been predetermined by birth, so she didn't have the freedom to choose what to do. Only how she chose to do it. But Tyson could do anything he wanted, really, without such constraints as class and wealth. "I'm sure you don't intend to pursue a life of politics." She grinned, knowing it was in fact the farthest thing Tyson would ever want to do with his life.  
Tyson stuck his tongue out at the thought of being present at boring, complicated court meetings and dealing with legal paperwork. No thank you. He turned a tunip over in his hand as he thought of how to best express the longing in his heart to fight for those in need, and how being stuck in the city made him restless. How he wanted to find people who were like him. How he wondered if dragons could really breathe fire. "I'd like to help people," he said finally, staring at the turnip in his hand. "Really help people, not like..." _being a guard and standing in front of someone important._ He watched the training warriors and thought some more. What was it he planned to do? Be a hero? An 'adventurer'? It didn't matter, as long as he got out of this city of liars and judgemental stares, into something that felt real. "I want to fight for something that matters."  
_Fight?_ Out of all the men of 'noble' birth that Vira had ever heard rattle on about honor and justice, Tyson truly had to be the noblest. She could see the determination in his eyes, and in that moment, Vira could truly see Tyson Nailo.  
Eventually, she said, "that is an admirable goal. I'm certain you can accomplish it. And bring good to those who need it." _If anyone could._ "I'd like to help too," she said softly. "But my place is in the castle, looking over the kingdom as a whole. The only men I'll ever be fighting are the politically corrupt." She stroked her hair behind her ear. "Or maybe in the war, before I'm coronated. You train, don't you?"  
Tyson snapped out of his pensive gaze and finally took a bite out of the tunrip. "Sure I do." He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, forgetting his company. "Do you train with them?" he asked, looking out to the men fencing in the field. Was this Vira's life, swordfighting and horseback riding? It wasn't the dainty pastime of the other bluebloods he found himself surrounded by.  
Vira loved how a lifetime of etiquette reinforcement couldn't pound out Tyson's instinctual habits. She knew she could truly relax with him with no judgement at all. Ranks didn't matter here. "Often," Vira said proudly. She was well on the way to mastering use of her rapier. "I find it's a nice reprieve from life in the capital." She tilted her head. "Want to duel?"  
Tyson looked at her in surprise. He opened his mouth hastily to agree, then had to stop himself. He knew he'd get into a LOT of trouble if he injured the very Princess of Holimion, even on accident. But he couldn't help but think it would be a blast for them to test their mettle against each other. Especially after noticing her surprising strength with the water bucket. "Yes." he said firmly, enthusiastically. Then Tyson grinned. "I didn't bring a weapon. Do you think we could...?" He glanced at the armoury hopefully.  
Vira leapt nimbly onto her feet and stood, finding Tyson's smile contagious. "Is it even a question?" she asked lightly, leading him to a storage building. _I own all of this._ She touched the center of the door and it glowed before shifting and opening. Inside were walls of weaponry of every type, and Vira tested the balance of a few blades before selecting one with a keen edge that was sure to be quick. "You may use whatever you like. But I won't be going easy on you, so you'd better give it all you've got," she teased, leaning against the rack.  
Tyson stared breathlss at the armoury surrounding him. "It's beautiful," he muttered under his breath. He could hardly decide where to start. He took a moment to savor the sight of it all, the expertly crafted blades, the balanced polearms, the intricate bows... It was a stunning array. Tyson wandered over to the maces, where he figured he would have the most luck, since they resemebled what he had at home. And then he saw it. One grand, double-sided battleaxe, hanging on the rack alone. He'd never actually seen one in real life before; elves generally weren't keen on the sheer brutal effectiveness that came with a battleaxe. Tyson reached out and took it in his hands, and by Justice, it felt so RIGHT. He shouldered the axe and turned to Vira without another glance at the rack. "I'm ready."  
_Huh._ Out of every weapon he could have chosen, Tyson chose the only battleaxe in the entire room. It was an atypical elven weapon, and was much more often attributed to the brute strength of orcs or other more bestial races. And yet, in Tyson's hands, it was as unique as he. She knew there was no way he had trained with one before, so she was curious to see how he faired with his decision. "Interesting," she commented, returning to the open grass where they had eaten. She bent over elegantly to unlace her boots and tossed them aside (her maids would cringe at the notion of getting dirt on her feet). She was much more agile when barefoot, and she knew that she would need to be quick against a foe who appeared to favor brawn and power. A hit by him could hurt.. but only if he managed to catch her. Vira positioned herself ten paces from Tyson, doing some preliminary stretches before taking a practiced stance and lifting her weapon. "Bring it, Nailo," she said confidently. _And feel free to remove your coat.._  
Tyson would not shirk back from his choice of weapon. It was beautiful and heavy and fit him like an extension of himself. He got the feel for it while Vira pranced around and did all the fancy footing he expected. Tyson held the axe firmly, then decided his fine jacket would only slow him down in this fight, so he threw it from it shoulders and slung it over the fence, leaving his arms exposed under the warm sun of the forest floor. Looking at Vira, posed and slender, he felt a tinge of guilt about accepting to duel her. She should be defended, not hurt. But it was her idea after all, and he couldn't simply back out of a challenge. Maybe he would just go easy on her...  
He rolled his axe in preperation and smiled back at Vira, then charged with the flat of his weapon.

Saeran, still watching closely from the shelter of the trees, just about had a heart attack at the sight of the two them leaping into battle. He barely understood his brother's actions at the best of times, but didn't Tyson realize what he could do? He had half a mind to leap out and end this mayhem once and for all... but he'd lose any trust Vira had put in him if she knew he'd tailed her on her day out. All he could do was watch, and hope against all hope she wouldn't be harmed.

And just like that, he ran at her with power. His footwork spoke of experience and practice, though not the brutal precision training she'd had. It was raw and his intentions were overt. Already, she could see holes in his defense, and she braced herself for when he reached her. She jumped to the side and lifted her rapier, surprised by how quickly Tyson reacted and swung at her a second time. _Good instincts.._ The clash of metal rang out ferociously. And yet, though Vira's grip was quite strong, Tyson should have knocked her weapon out of her hand at this angle. Which meant he wasn't taking this fight seriously.. Narrowing her eyes, Vira knocked his arm away with her sword and used the opportunity to sweep her leg against the back of his knee, throwing her weight into the kick.  
And suddenly, Tyson found himself on the ground with Vira standing over him and his head throbbing. She was quick. Tyson blinked back into reality and scrambled to his feet, axe finding its way back to his hand, and turned as quickly as he could to meet Vira's somewhat smug gaze. Sure, she was quick and nimble, but Tyson at least had size on his side. Once he gained his footing, he threw his axe over his head and leapt one more towards the princess, aiming to knock her back.  
He was faster now. Vira tried to dodge his blow, but he managed to hit her in the side, knocking the air out of her. She hissed as she recoiled and used the force to dance away and regain her footing. _My turn to be on the offensive._ Vira brushed it off, lifting her weapon in a different form. Then she rushed him, holding her sword out to strike, but once in range she feigned a swing and dropped to tumble underneath his axe and behind Tyson. She pushed him forward with all the force she could put behind her hilt, hoping he'd lose his balance. With so heavy a weapon, Vira could win on speed alone.  
Tyson expected some tricks, and he planted his feet against Vira's shove. Unphased, he whirled around and shot her a smirk before swinging the blunt face of his axe into her sword arm again.  
She had two choices- twist her arm or release her weapon. She chose the latter, and her sword flew several yards away. Tyson's arm was still outstretched as he was finishing the arch of his swing, and Vira moved forward, taking his arm and shoving her shoulder up against him. Then she winked and tugged his upper body forward, kicking his leg up to flip him over her and onto his back. _Now, where's my sword?_  
And he was on his back, AGAIN, and Tyson grunted in frustration. What was that wink about, anyway? Why...? He rushed to his feet and paused to catch his breath while he waited for his opponent to get her weapon back. He had too much honor to hit her while she was disarmed.  
Vira wasn't surprised that he didn't take advantage of her lack of defense. She lifted her weapon for a third time, twirling it and then circling Tyson cautiously. She could see he was frustrated. "Do you give up?" she taunted outwardly, though truthfully her muscles were throbbing from the strain of his weight. She hadn't been careful enough, but she couldn't show that. She was truly enjoying this match. Tyson was a good partner. She had gotten some lucky hits in, but she was sure that he had much more up his sleeve. Figuratively speaking. Vira was VERY aware that currently, Tyson Nailo had no sleeves.  
Though his breath was heavy and there was a pain in the back of his skull for hitting the ground so hard twice, Tyson shook his head with a grin. "Not that easy." _I never get a chance to spar like this..._ He didn't like how she was dancing around him, so he took it on himself to end it. After steadying his footing, Tyson boundeded forward and met blades with Vira with a satisfying *clang* and their eyes locked as he tried to overpower her again.  
Vira shoved back for all she was worth, but she couldn't manage an inch. Rather, she was now using both hands to fend off his axe, which was getting closer and closer to her with each second. Vira knew she needed to pull out of this deadlock and take Tyson by surprise before her muscles gave. She took a step back, then another, and then another, but her heel landed in a cavity, masked by the grass, and she lost her footing and stumbled back to the ground. _I'm not going alone._ Her arm flew out and gripped Tyson's wrist, and she pulled as she fell.  
Tyson felt the surge of victory when at last he outmatched her, but it was short-lived as she yanked him after her towards the ground. In a panic he fought agaisnt Vira's hand and gravity to throw his axe aside, before it gave way and came crashing down on her. All his effort put towards keeping her safe, there was nothing he could do to keep from tumbling down after her, both of them disarmed. He barely caught himself on his elbow to keep from falling flush against Vira.

Fear turned to jealousy as Saeran clenched his fists from behind the cover of foilage. _Get OFF of her..._

She had no doubt that he would move the axe in time, but she realized that now there was a different dilemma. The adrenaline was still soaring through her, but she was breathing heavily for an entirely different reason. His face.. Tyson's face.. was inches from her own, his lower body against hers and their legs entangled, and her eyes widened as they stared into his startled but endless ones. It was as if time had frozen, and she couldn't keep the blush from her cheeks this time. Never before had she been in so intimate a position, even by accident, and she was torn between pushing him away and pulling him closer. His lips looked so inviting..  
She didn't seem hurt, Tyson thought with relief. There was no way anyone would believe the princess invited him to duel even if he told them. Everything seemed fine, but then he realized Vira wasn't trying to push him off, just staring at him. His ears heated up. He was practically laying on her, he realized, and he hurried shakily to get off and give her space. "Are you alright? I'm sorry." he said quickly. "I didn't mean to... I'm sorry. Let me help you up." Tyson got to his feet and offered his hand, face reddening beyond his control.

Just when he was sure he couldn't watch any more, Saeran breathed a silent sigh of relief when at last Tyson had to good sense to get away from her. _Idiot. You could have killed her._ Tyson didn't belong anywhere near her, and he must have understood that now. Any moment now, Vira would begin telling him off, and then he wouldn't have to worry about them running off like this again. Saeran watched closely and waited.

Vira swallowed, coming to her senses when Tyson had pulled himself away from her. _Wait-!_ She took his hand and rose to her feet, but didn't let go immediately. Tyson's eyes questioned her and his cheeks were still adorably red with embarrassment. They were alone, away from Holimion. Away from everyone and everything. She wondered- "I'm fine, I just..." She moved closer. And then she summed up her courage. "Kiss me, Tyson," she spoke gently but adamantly.  
Tyson's eyes widened. Did she really want him to...? Suddenly it made sense. The smiles and winks and enlongated stares. This casual day out hadn't been about his conversation. She wanted him.  
Her skin suddenly felt hot and sweaty against his own. The way she said it... it was an order, he realized. Even if he wanted to tell her it was nice just being her friend and that he didn't know what this was, he couldn't deny a direct order from Vira. He had sort of hoped she only wanted his company and not expected some physical act, but now Tyson knew it was too good to be true.  
Tyson took a breath to ready himself. If the princess demanded a kiss from him, he had better make it a good one. And with that thought, he slowly leaned closer to Vira Aldmae, set his hand on her soft cheek, and took her lips gently in his.

Saeran could just make out the figures of his brother and sweet Vira, but he couldn't quite pick up what they were saying. He had to hear those words. He glanced around for a place to move closer, when he looked up and saw something he couldn't believe he was seeing. _no. NO._ Vira. His Vira. And his own brother, leaned in close, too close, much too close... and he saw what might have been Vira's first kiss with his own eyes. Only it wasn't with him. She chose Tyson over him. He couldn't breath.  
Saeran wanted to leap from his hiding spot and rip them apart, but his legs were shaking and he was frozen in place. _No._ It couldn't be real, could it? Not his own brother? _Am I seeing this? Or have I merely died and gone to hell?_ Saeran tore his eyes away and stared at the ground, unable to process what he had seen. He clutched at his chest where a rippling ache rended him throughout. How could they do this to him? The girl he loved prefered the affection of his little brother. After everything he'd done to gain her trust, they were courting behind his back. Why? Why did this happen to him? Why did it hurt so much?  
Saeran leaned on a nearby tree for support as his legs lost the will to support him. He was gasping for breath- it seemed his heart had stopped beating. She was never his. It was always Tyson. Tyson. The less handsome Nailo brother. The black sheep of Holimion. Tyson, who he could bully and boss and talk circles around. He was kissing Princess Vira. _My princess._  
Saeran fell to the ground, not far from the spot where his betrayal was taking place. He couldn't see them any more- he couldn't see anything. It was there that Saeran Nailo had his weakest moment. No one was there to see him shaking, or catch the tears that streamed his face, or hear him mutter her name in a cracking voice. He thought he might die, and in fact a part of him did. When he stood at last, straightened his posture, and strode after his horse, it was a different man than the one who had left Nailo Manor that evening. This Saeran no longer saw reason to care for anything or about anyone. He realized then that trusting another soul will only tear oneself apart, and that pain was something he would not be feeling again. There was no room in Saeran's heart for love or loyalty. In that moment he desired only to cause as much heartache to those who scorned him as he had suffered.

Everything was perfect, and as it should be. Vira's heart was beating so quickly as he kissed her breath away. She'd always imagined kissing Tyson, but had never thought it would be like this.. The sun was tickling her skin, his hand brushing over her cheek, and his lips moving over hers. She lifted a hand to place on his shoulder, pressing herself into him. The kiss was chaste and sweet, and lasted for only a moment. Vira kept her eyes shut as Tyson pulled away, savoring the residual tingling. Now that she'd finally had a taste, she wanted to kiss him again and again. He must feel the same, right? She opened her eyes and looked at him inquisitively. So bold a second before, now she felt abashed at her inability to control her desires. She opened her heart to Tyson and lie bare before him, rarely, if ever, so insecure. "Say something," she said, hushed, when the silence had dragged on for too long.  
Tyson was still flush as he moved away. He'd kissed plenty of women, but never one he actually liked as much as Vira. His heart was beating rather hard and he didn't understand why she was staring at him like this or what she expected him to say. He stroked her cheek gently with his thumb while he thought, before he caught himself and took a step away, removing both of his hands from her. "I hope that made up for knocking you down."  
Vira laughed a most joyous carefree laugh, her face glowing. The contact had been foreign to her, but it awoke parts of her inside that she'd never known existed. "Indeed it did. That was... pleasant," Vira said, regaining her confidence. "Of course, your footwork is awful. It was lucky you managed to push me over at all," she teased, picking up their weapons as though they hadn't just kissed. "Still, you're a worthy adversary. I look forward to facing off again sometime," she smiled, handing him his axe. "Anelace is looking bored. Shall we move along?"  
Tyson snorted a laugh, feeling a little less uncomfortable now that she was acting normal again. "Yeah." He began walking off towards the armoury to stow his axe (he wished he could keep it) until the next time they'd fight. That time he would know better than to go easy on her. And maybe bring a helmet.  
After returning their weapons, Vira sealed the door, and the duo began untying their horses and double checking the straps. "We'll circle around and finish our journey, and we can return to the city afterward. It'll be evening by then," she explained. "And Tyson," Vira said, keeping her eyes firmly on her fingers when he looked up in question. "If you ever feel like.. doing that again, I grant you permission," Vira said nobly. Then she nodded once and mounted her horse. "Hya!" And she took off, leaving him in her wake to catch up.  
Tyson watched her ride off for a moment, left standing there utterly confused, but also sort of...warm. What exactly did she expect from him? he wondered, pressing his lips together absentmindedly as he climbed onto Tanna's back once more. Either way, he knew he liked spending time with Vira, more than pretty much anyone else he'd ever met. He could get used to getting out with her a few days a week, riding on horseback and talking and fighting. Maybe he could learn some of those fancy moves she used against him. And if she wanted a kiss or two in return, well, Tyson decided he didn't really mind. He flicked the reigns and went galloping after her.

Memories that I'd block out If you were mine You've got a pocketful of reasons why you're here tonight So baby tonight just be The death of me

"Are you hungry? We could get something," Tyson asked Vira after their final class for the day. He'd become accustomed to spending time with the princess several times a week, and now it was completely normal.  
Vira bumped him playfully. "You're never full, you know that? Some of us of finer birth prefer to eat impractically small portions. You should consider it," she said, in her 'noble' voice. It was so ridiculous that even Tyson couldn't help but giggle with her like children, oblivious to those around them. When she managed to keep a straight face, Vira cleared her throat. "Regretfully, I'll have to pass today. I have some royal duties," she said apologetically.  
"Like what?" 'Royal Duties' was Vira's term for any sort of lesson that involved finishing school, monarchy training, conducting meetings, and any other sort of lesson or chore she was responsible for.  
"Ballroom dancing, and meeting with the representative of Mierta," she sighed. She was more and more busy these days. "By the time I get done, it'll be- Oh, my guard is here. Good bye, Tyson! I'll see you tomorrow," Vira said with a long suffering smile before she whisked away to attend to her tasks.  
As Tyson waved her off, his ear twitched, and he turned to see Saeran not far off. Blanching, he tried to move out of sight before his brother called out to him. Saeran had been the epitome of spiteful rage these past several weeks, and for whatever reason he had chosen to be especially cruel to Tyson.  
Saeran had been listening very carefully, and his heartrate quickened as he understood the implications of what he'd learned. If ever there was an oppurtunity to put and end to this trist that boiled his blood, tonight was the night. He always kept a close eye on his 'beloved' little brother when he slinked off with the princess. It sickened him to see them together, but he was observing. Making note of every move and mannerism Tyson made. If things went smoothly, after tonight he'd once again have control over his life that had seemed to be falling apart for the last two months.  
Hiding the smirk that seemed to well up inside him with fiendish delight, Saeran strode after Tyson. "Hiding from me?" he asked bitterly.  
Tyson slumped over, dragging his feet as he continued to walk home. _Darn.._ "What do you want?" Tyson grumbled. It couldn't be good, whatever it was. He wished Vira was still here, as she was quite capable of handling him. It was good to have an ally. "I don't want to talk right now." He hoped that Saeran wasn't in one of his moods, but they were already off to a bad start, and Tyson could feel the malice emanating from him. Saeran was.. darker, somehow.  
Saeran shot him a glare and walked by his side nonetheless. "Not fond of your big brother walking you home anymore?" he asked snidley. "I just thought you might want my help before you make a fool out of yourself. But if you would rather not talk to me, fine." Saeran walked in gruff silence and waited for Tyson to, as he inevitably would, ask what Saeran knew that he didn't.  
Tyson immediately looked over himself to see if perhaps there was a tear in his clothing that Vira had been too polite to point out. When he came up empty handed, he quickened his pace so that he was next to Saeran again, matching him step for step. "What are you talking about?" he demanded. Was there a social event that he'd forgotten he had to attend? The last thing he needed was to disappoint his parents and his family name. It was possible Saeran was trying to trick him, but Tyson figured if he was cautious, it would be alright. Besides, Saeran usually acted nicer when he was lying. And his attitude mitigated Tyson's skepticism somewhat.  
Saeran glanced aloofly over his shoulder, as if he hadn't known it was coming. "The princess." he muttered matter-of-factly. He took a few more strides, gaze on the street and hands in his pockets. "What do you think she wants out of you, Tyson?" he asked, no less bitter edge to his voice.  
Tyson chewed on the inside of his cheek. What did Vira want? "My friendship.." And yet, she seemed to enjoy kissing him rather a lot. And it wasn't so bad, Tyson thought. On the contrary, it was better because they were so close. He scratched his head. "Maybe something more than that. Why does it matter?" He looked at Saeran sharply.  
Saeran snorted a humorless laugh. "Don't be so naive. She's royalty. Women like her always have an agenda, you know." He inspected his nails and paused before continuing. "And then, you're not exactly Holimion's most dignified prince," he drawled with a level of mockery. It was harder and harder to mask how much he hated Tyson these days. Saeran turned and looked at his brother with a cocked eyebrow. "You know how the rumors speak of you. The day is coming soon when she won't let herself be seen in your presence. She has a reputation, Tyson. And you're tainting it."  
Tyson narrowed his eyes. "What do you know about her? Vira doesn't care about things like that," Tyson argued angrily. And yet, he found himself wondering the same thing sometimes. Why Vira Aldmae, princess of the elven kingdom, bothered to associate with him as often as she did. Tyson tended to ignore the whispers at school and social events, which was easy when he was with Vira, but lately the rumors would be ABOUT Vira. Truth rang in Saeran's statements, but Tyson still didn't believe that she would just drop him for the sake of something so trivial. She wasn t like his brother.  
"Believe whatever you like." Saeran muttered. "Royalty have to maintian some level of ties with noble families. Don't forget that, Tyson. And don't forget that even if Vira actually has some fondness for you, I doubt that her _parents_ feel the same." That was enough. Saeran quickened his steps and left Tyson to his thoughts, partially because he required getting to Nailo Manor first in order to change into something a little more Tyson-y.  
Tyson slowed as his brother left him behind. He hadn't even thought about the king and queen. Sure he'd seen them, and was mildly acquainted, but would they approve of all the time he'd been spending with their daughter? Did she even have royal duties today, or was Saeran right? Tyson shook his head. This was ridiculous. Who should care if he was friends with Vira? He swore under his breath and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Tyson waited until Saeran was out of sight before he trudged after him, in a considerably more sour mood than he d been earlier that day.  
With the time he'd bought on the path over, Saeran hurried quietly to Tyson's room. His own wardrobe was much more elegant and bold. The difference would be noticed... He found a collared shirt that wasn't awful and changed quickly, before his brother returned and noticed an intruder. Tyson would be here soon... his own boots would have to do. Saeran tossed a cloak over his shoulders before he snuck out the side exit and began the short walk to Stylmist Estate.

Sidhion was sprawled on the couch in his sitting room, staring aimlessly at the ceiling with his feet in the air while he went through the argument he'd had with Saeran for the hundredth time in his head. Instead of dealing with the abundance of paperwork that always seemed to pile up from work and school, he watching Saeran's lips spell the words that struck him harder than any physical weapon could.  
_Perhaps I shouldn't have interfered-_ It was then that he heard a knock from the front door. A servant rushed down the steps to answered it, but Sidhion was really only a few paces away. And so he stood and adjusted his collar. "Oh no, don't trouble yourself," he dismissed with his usual joyful smile. "Stilmysts. I'm afraid my father is ou-" He opened the door with his usual grace only slightly dampened and was quite shocked to see none other than the man who tormented him from miles away. "Oh." His heart leapt happily in spite of himself, and he stood for a moment before grinning like nothing was wrong. "Good evening! What brings the blossoming lord of the Nailos to my place of residence?" he asked in his odd way of phrasing. His eyes immediately picked out that awfully suspicious cloak. _What are you planning?_  
Saeran was somewhat taken aback by the jovial greeting. Last he had checked, Sidhion seemed to want to associate with Saeran just about as much as Saeran wanted to assoiciate with him. Saeran wished he could tell what he was thinking the way Sidhion always seemed to be able to read his mind. "Less than official business." Saeran said plainly. "Frankly speaking, I've been an ass."  
Sidhion never thought he'd hear Saeran say those words. His smile dropped and he held no expression now, lest this all me a rouse. "You know I was only trying to help you," Sidhion murmured.  
Saeran nodded with a sigh. All scheming aside, in the moment when Saeran cast him aside, Sidhion had been absolutely right. _This had better work..._ Saeran gestured to the path he'd come from. "Let me buy you a drink." Money was no object to them both; it was the offer itself that meant something. But Saeran reasoned that that was probably all Sidhion needed.  
Sidhion paused, considering the offer, and then smirked. _As if I could ever refuse._ "I'll grab a coat." And he tried not to let his mind spin away from him as he grabbed his jacket and scarf and popped his head in to say goodbye to his sister.  
"Where are we going?" he asked as they walked together. "This is an apology, isn't it? Oh, I knew you couldn't live without me."  
Saeran smiled his half-smile and lead the way, keeping a reasonable distance from Sidhion as they paced. How easy it ALWAYS was to keep Sidhion coming back to him. "I thought perhaps the Yale Tree. We could both do with a little wine." His cloak echoed their movements as he kept it draped closely over Tyson's clothes. "Don't get ahead of me but..." Saeran sighed dramatically, "yes, it would seem I said some things I didn't mean in our last conversation. Can you forgive me my rashness?"  
For a second, Sidhion looked like he might say no. _I know this isn't like him. But is it so wrong to play along and pretend that it is?_ Then he smirked. "Of course." _I forgave you the moment you said it._ "We're friends, aren't we?" He blushed, looking down. "I didn't handle it well anyway." He pulled his scarf up and shoved his hands deeper into his pockets.  
"Well, I don't like fighting with you either." Saeran muttered. Then he raised his chin again. "But let's not speak of that unhappy incidident any more. Tonight is for merriment."  
"Right! We'll drink and sing and dance the night away at.. the Yale Tree, you said?" Sidhion reiterated, delighted. "How classy. It's been ages since we've been." They'd certainly never gone together. While Saeran had been known to buy a whore to get his urges out, Sidhion really preferred the challenge 'catching' a man, and he frequented such places. "They have simply the finest vintage."  
_I DO NOT sing..._ Saeran put on a smile. "I'm glad you're looking forward to it as well." That comment, he meant. He needed Sidhion to be in a fantastic mood, trusting of him, and somewhat comprimised if this plan was ever going to work.  
"I'm sure we can stir up a little fun and mischeif there tonight." Saeran stepped a little closer. "I do recall a certain incident with a punchbowl, a cat, and a well-placed charm a few years ago, That couldn't have had anything to do with you, now, hm?"  
_If only you were truly happy to be with me right now._ "Goodness, no. What do you take me for? I'm the picture of innocence," Sidhion said, brushing his curls back angelically. "But honestly, I have much better spells now. You should take me out more if you'd like a taste of them." Saeran was next to him now, as he was more than aware. "Do you have something in mind for my talents?"  
Saeran raised an eyebrow. "As simple as that? You'll let me borrow your magic just for asking nicely?" It was too early yet. He'd catch on too quickly... No, he needed to make sure Sidhion couldn't remember the night. "I'll let you know if an idea strikes me," he said with a mischevious smirk.  
"It's never that simple. There's always a price," Sidhion said carelessly. "You'd have to do something for me in return.." he said ominously. _So that was it then?_ "And with that thought," Sidhion said, grabbing Saeran's arm and pulling him down an alley. "Here we are," he said cheerfully, opening the intricate doors. Music and laughter could already be heard even through the thick walls. "I'll try not to get too tipsy."  
Saeran begrudgingly allowed Sidhion to keep hold of his arm as they passed into the intensely lit dance hall, full of cushy chairs and pounding music and lusty elves. "To the bar, then," Saeran joked.  
Sidhion, content to hold onto Saeran until he pulled away, led them to the comfortable seats at the counter, receiving a few intoxicated hellos and waves from acquaintances along the way. He politely smiled and nodded, but didn't stop to chat. No matter how crowded the Yale Tree became, there was always room to enjoy oneself, and they sat down not far from the band. "What'll you be having?" Sidhion asked, crossing his legs and leaning chin on his palm. He was facing the musicians, but watching Saeran curiously from the side.  
Saeran snapped his fingers and waited for a bartender to come close enough to order. "A dewmead for my friend here, and a treetopper for me." The bargirl nodded swiftly and moved away, before Saeran leaned back to grab her attention once more. "Virgin," he added lowly.  
She paused and glanced, eye brows raised, at his company, then nodded understandingly. "So it's that sort of night."  
Saeran opened his mouth to protest but she was gone again just as quickly. He rubbed the blush from his ears and turned back to Sidhion grandly. "Right, Drinks on their way."  
"Why you spoil me," Sidhion chuckled, leaning toward Saeran perhaps a tad too close. "Imagine, a young man like me being treated to drinks by Saeran Nailo. What will people think?" he teased lightly, accepting his beverage when it was placed in front of him. _Hmm.._ He lifted his drink for Saeran to clink his glass against.  
And they toasted. "To a new start to an old friendship." He flashed his teeth before sipping at his cocktail. _Drink up, Sidhion..._ He knew the mead would kick in quickly. If he hurried, perhaps he could be out before Vira finished her delagations.  
The music from the band was picking up, and the sound of drums was nearly overwhelming them from this proximity. Saeran had to raise his voice to be heard. "I hope you've been keeping busy with your usual capers?"  
"Perhaps," Sidhion replied, swallowing the drink agreeably. His stomach tingled almost immediately. "If you must know, I've been rather well entertained. I met a new boy. Merchant's son. Rather experienced," he noted. "Don't be jealous, I haven't won him over yet.. That's him in the corner." He gestured to a dazzling elf with dark hair in his face, chatting up a barmaid. Perhaps Saeran hadn't wanted any details, but his drink was half drained, and it was affecting him quickly.  
"Seems as though he has more of an affinity for the fairer sex. But I suppose it's never mattered to you." Saeran sipped slowly, putting much more attention towards watching Sidhion's mead dissapear that listening to his conversation.  
"It's more exciting that way," Sidhion finished his drink, setting it down. "All I need is one night to show them all the things a woman could never do," he rambled, swaying along to the music, but not quite on the right beat anymore. "We should dance," he said excitedly, standing quickly and expecting Saeran to jump up with him at the great idea.  
Saeran snapped once more at their barmaid before rising to his feet, smiling not so much about the prospect of dancing but the smooth execution of his plan. "Lead the way," he said with a devilish grin.  
Sidhion moved to the dancefloor and joined the other young elves, his moves rather suggestive and gaining attention fast. It was much too noisy for him to be heard, so he simply smiled a purely elated smile and offered Saeran his hand hopefully.  
Saeran glanced at the hand and looked around uncomfortably, then thankfully found another drink to throw into it with a smile. _I'm not nearly drunk enough to take that hand..._ Saeran stepped in to dance close to, but not really with, his friend. It only just occured to him that a Sidhion whose judgement was lax enough to do what he needed tonight might also make a lot of unwarranted passes at him... But this couldn't wait; it had to be tonight. Saeran realized with a sinking feeling that he would have to play along, if the need arose.  
"You're trying to get me drunk," he mouthed playfully, slurping the drink down. He locked eyes with Saeran and slid his fingers accross himself, perfectly fluid with the music. He slinked closer and tried to dance against him, putting his free hand on Saeran's waist. "Come on," he pleaded, his voice laced with the desire he hadn't the sense to mask.  
Saeran sighed heavily to himself under the music, and resolved to oblidge Sidhion as necessary. He swept up Sidhion's hand and spun his already staggering self away, working his feet fancily as only Saeran Nailo could.  
Sidhion threw himself into the music, and his feet were spinning as fast as his head, and he forgot what was happening and where he was a couple of times, until he saw Saeran's face and realized he felt GREAT. The lights darkened in the room for a mood effect as the music grew more intense. The drink's potency made itself clear when Sidhion clutched at Saeran, leaning closer to his ear with the utmost importance. "Saeran, I mishhed you a lot," he said quite seriously. "Let's never fight again for as long as we live," he managed, his eyes brimming up. "You're.. my best friend," he hiccuped, falling against him suddenly and burying his head in Saeran's chest.  
Saeran started and did his best to catch Sidhion in his arms. _Well, yes, that is definitely drunk enough._ "I know, Sidhion, I know. Hush now. Let's get you to a room, hm?" He slowly attempted to guide a stumbling Sidhion to his feet and towards one of many doors that lined the walls of the dance floor.  
Sidhion wiped his eyes, smirking as he was guided. "Ohh, I get it." He winked suggestively. "You could have.. asked me when I was shoberrr.." he mumbled lustfully. He opened the door erratically and pulled Saeran inside eagerly, nearly tripping in the process as his legs were particularly wobbly. "But don't worry.. I'll be jus as good," he promised proudly, leaning against the door to shut it and fumbling with his buttons.  
Doing his very best not to wretch, Saeran stilled his hands and pressed them against the door. "Actually, Sidhion, there's something I need you to do for me first..." he murmured sensually, face just a few inches away.  
Sidhion moaned in need and confusion, looking foggily into Saeran's eyes but letting Saeran control his arms. It was difficult to understand Saeran's intentions. He was having more difficulty reading them than usual. But then he figured it out. "Ah, I see." His eyes lit up knowingly and he giggled. He suddenly pulled his arms free and dropped to his knees before Saeran, grabbing at his belt.  
Saeran just about leapt away. He cleared his throat and beckoned for Sidhion to stand up. "Not now. There's something I desperately need your help for. Only you. And if you can help me with that, well, then..." he ran his fingers through his hair, looking intensely at Sidhion. "I'd be very much oblidged to you."  
His eyes followed those fingers sweep through that perfect hair. Sidhion understood that Saeran desperately needed him to do something. He nodded, standing dizzily. "How can I help?" _Only me.._ He knew that Saeran being obliged to him would lead to a night to be remembered, so the sooner he assisted, the better. He helped Saeran all the time. He wondered if it was a prank. "I'll do what I can," he spoke, surprisingly clear, and his face almost comically determined.  
The clarity of his speech reinstated form of Saeran's confidence. He didn't need a botched incantation to ruin his entire plan. Sidhion took a step back towards his friend and set his hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes with just a touch of desperation.  
"I need you to disguise me as Tyson."  
Sidhion lifted his hands to do just that. "Why?" he asked then. "I thought you were ashamed of him," he reasoned, through his thick speech. "And you're MUCH more appealing," he said. Exaggerated perhaps, but to him, it was true.  
Saeran rolled his eyes. "Of course I am. But I have a little plan cooking. I'll tell you all the details once it works, of course." _If you can remember a thing about this in the morning, perhaps..._ He stepped back and took a breath to ready himself. _Come on, I need this. This is my one chance. Just don't let me down this once..._  
Sidhion clapped his hands together. "How exciting! Alright then..." He closed his eyes, furrowing his brows in concentration and willing his magic awake. Muttering an incantation, he swirled his fingers through the air as though rolling something invisible in them and stepped forward, touching Saeran on the forehead. And then Saeran's body shifted and broadened before his eyes.  
Saeran expected it to hurt a little, but when the peculiar tingling of his body shifting and changing ended, he felt nothing unpleasant. A little unwieldy perhaps, and a lot stronger, but no pain. When he opened his eyes and looked down at the big hands that were definitely not his any more, Saeran broke out in a cackle that sounded haunting coming from Tyson's face.  
"I never should have doubted you," he muttered, looking up at Sidhion. He threw his cloak off and left it on the floor, smiling confidently, and strode for the door with Tyson's body under his control.  
"Teaches you to doubt my magic," he scoffed, but it was hopelessly slurred now as his spell use had tired him. Saeran approaching the exit however quickly alerted him. Sidhion hurried to follow him out. "Wait.. Where are you going?" he questioned despairingly. Saeran looked so much like Tyson.. even dressed like the younger brother, as Sidhion's befuddled mind managed to realize.  
Saeran paused at the exit. "Why if I told you, what fun would it be?" he asked with a smirk. "But by all means, enjoy your night." He pressed Sidhion away with a pouch of gold in his suddenly enlarged palm. And with that he disappeared into the dancing crowd, struggling to get a hold of Tyson's shorted but more powerful strides.  
Sidhion, quite disappointed, made it to the bar. _He left me alone._ He was irritated with Saeran AND Tyson both.

"Rough night?" Sidhion looked up. "I noticed you dancing earlier," said an elf who couldn't be much past a hundred. "You were VERY good," he grinned. Sidhion simpered at the compliment, leaning against the counter. The elf coughed. "Wanna get outa here?"

"Might as well.."

Everything was coming together extremely well, Saeran thought to himself as he navigated the streets of Holimion to the meeting hall where he happened to know the princess was meeting with a representative from Mierta. And later, as a sweet little surprise, her lover the Nailo boy. He leaned himself against a pillar outside, where exiting dignitaries would spot him, and practiced Tyson's most typical expression of aloof disinterest.

Vira bowed to the Miertan woman and quickly escaped the conference room before she could add in anything else. They had already gone past their scheduled end time, and all the irritating representative seemed to have were complaints for the Aldmaes. She patted down her skirt and blew out a breath, trying to calm herself before she pulled her hair own out. She knew her scribe felt the same way, and she looked at him sympathetically as he held his wrist. Striding out the front door in frustration, and the few others who attended filing out meekly behind her, Vira almost missed the figure propped against the column outside. She happened to glance over and then double took, breaking out into a great smile. _Just who I needed to see._ "Tyson!" she laughed, walking up to him. "What are you doing here? I told you I would be done late." Despite that, she was ecstatic that he'd chosen to come anyway.  
Saeran's heart thumped to see Vira so happy to be near him. But it wasn't for him, he reminded himself, and stepped forward, hands in his pockets. "I didn't really mind waiting," came Tyson's lower, less loquacious voice.  
She brushed her hair out of her face, flattered. He'd come to see HER this time. "Well what would you like to do? It's late, but I don't really have to be home yet. And since you waited up for me, we might as well go somewhere."  
Saeran started to walk away from the crowd with her. "It's nice out tonight. So, why don't we just talk a walk through the hanging gardens? If you want." He kicked the ground and avoided eye contact the way he observed Tyson seemed to when he was being passively thoughtful.  
_The gardens?_ "Sure, they're beautiful.. But are you sure you can bear a location so effete?" she joked. It was odd for Tyson to suggest a walk somewhere so lovely (or anywhere really), but especially a place so generally romantic. However, the 'if you want' and the gesture itself were so uniquely Tyson-like that she figured he must have something on his mind. Perhaps he thought it was somewhere Vira would like for him to take her. But in all honesty, she'd be happy anywhere she could go with Tyson.  
Saeran snorted a laugh. "I can handle it." Vira was so clever. _Why would you be interested in this brute?_ He offered his arm to her, ready to lead the way. It seemed his disguise was utterly convincing. Now wasn't the time to worry how long it would last. No, right now Saeran's only focus was on romancing the Princess just a bit more than his brother would be able to. Why, if he had the oppurunity, Saeran would have knocked her socks off. But for some reason the only way he could get close to her was through dirty tricks like polymorph.  
Vira stared at him, taken aback for a second. _Tyson is offering me his arm?_ They had never held hands before. "Who are you and what have you done with Tyson Nailo?" she demanded seriously, and was able to hold a straight face for about two seconds before she dissolved into sniggering. "Honestly, offering your arm like one of those mollycoddled boys my parents used to have escort me. You're in a mood." She took his arm anyway, happy to feel his warm muscles through his sleeve. "I don't really mind though." If Tyson felt like being sweet or affectionate, who was she to refuse?  
Saeran fairly sure all the color drained from his face for a moment. She'd seen through his ruse and it was to the dungeon with him... But then she broke, and Saeran forced a laugh himself as they started walking. _who are you calling mollycoddled..._ "I missed you is all." he admitted in little more than a mutter. Then he picked up his chin and talked to her 'normally'. "I hope the dimplomatic garbage wasn't too awful today."  
Her heart fluttered at the sweet words that she managed to catch. At mention of her meeting, however, she groaned. "This woman seems to think it's my father's fault that they're having a drought. As if the Aldmaes are directly responsible for the blasted weather." She shook her head. "In case you were wondering, that was one of her more reasonable arguments." A cool breeze blew by, rattling the billions of Lamara leaves above, and Vira stepped marginally closer to Saeran. "I can't fathom what strings she had to pull to be elected. But there are very few proposals she offered that we can actually take into consideration."  
Saeran nodded vacantly, finding it hard to focus with Vira moving ever closer to him. This was going to work... She seemed cold. Saeran thought to himself that he should have kept his cloak, so she could wear it now. _Stop. Stick to the task at hand. This is the woman who prefers your brother's body over yours._ He led her wordlessly under the arc of magnificent hanging wolfsbane into the garden.  
The greenery was breathtaking, ferns and flowers and herbs decorating and growing in harmonious tandem. It was at that moment Vira realized just how sweet he had been to take her here to begin with. Even the castle gardens didn't compare.. "Oh." Vira stopped to smell the saccharine nectar of the blue flowers at her side. They were the only ones there, which made the moment all the more special. "It's so relaxing here," Vira declared. "Thank you, Tyson," she said, pressing her cheek into his shoulder, wanting to be close to him (especially when he was radiating heat). "Tonight, I'd rather not focus on politics. Let's just be us."  
Saeran faltered, and in a moment of weakness, wrapped his arm around her and held her close, to which his hreat burned in response. If only she knew how he needed her, how she belonged at his side, the real him... With a great effort he pulled himself away and withdrew once again. This was Tyson's night with her. Saeran's would come soon enough. "I'm glad you like it here," he said calmly. "There's something I wanted to talk to you about. When you're ready," he said vaguely.  
_Why must you always pull away?_ "When I'm ready?" she smirked, daringly. "What is it? If you're hoping for a rematch for yesterday, we decided in advance that we wouldn't have one. I won fairly."  
"I'm over it." Saeran said firmly, before breaking back into a smile. "Don't worry. Just enjoy the garden." And they walked around, and smelled the flowers, watched the butterflies. Searan insisted on putting a tiger lily in Vira's hair.  
The whole thing was romantic and tender and enrapturing and odd, but it was Tyson, and it was Vira, and they laughed and played and talked like they normally would. Vira was getting the feeling he was nervous about something, however. And when they stopped in a pavilion with woven white bark and pleasant pillowed benches., she said firmly, "Alright. I wish for you to speak your mind. What do you want to talk to me about?"  
Saeran smiled half a smile. "Why does everything you say have to sound like a royal decree?" he joked. Then he cleared his throat and stared at her hands, taking them gently in his big strong (magically borrowed) hands as he spoke. "Look, this isn't easy for me. But I... I care for you a lot, Vira. You're the only girl I've ever known so long. Or gotten so close to." He finally looked up into her bright eyes to deliver the final line of his recital. "I'm... ready."  
Tyson's words were not what she expected, but weren't something that hadn't crossed her mind either.. More and more often these days. She didn't need to ask him what he was declaring himself ready for. She hadn't expected it to be so formal. Seeing as she knew for certain that Tyson had had intimate relations in the past, it was a lot more personal for her wasn't it? But this would be a new level in their relationship, and she was sure that was something frightening and foreign to them both. It certainly explained Tyson's odd behavior this evening. Was she herself ready? She supposed she was as prepared as she would ever be. She had been prepared to lose her virginity at Lamara, but Saeran had really but a damper on those plans. Now, however, the man of her dreams was offering her the chance again. And so Vira leaned in and planted a chaste, loving kiss on his lips. "Okay," she whispered, her heart hammering in her chest.  
The kiss didn't last nearly long enough. Saeran looked at her as if he didn't believe she would have said yes, then tightened his arms around her and exhaled. "Alright. Great." He pulled back and looked at her face with uncertainty. "Where can we...?"  
_Tonight.._ She hadn't really expected that they would take this step. This morning he had shied away from a gentle touch on his shoulder. And now he was proposing.. Well the last thing Vira wanted to do was shut him down while he was opening up to her. Saeran did that more than enough. And this was something she'd really been looking forward to experiencing. She tried to sound confident and grown-up. "We can use my quarters. I'll send the guards away.. I know you haven't been inside yet, but there is plenty of.. room." Could he see how her hands trembled?  
The way Vira was trying to be her usual athoritative self when she looked so nervous was terribly endearing to Saeran. "Okay." He took her hand with both of his and looked in her eyes. "Are you sure you're okay with this?" he asked gently.  
Vira looked down at his hands, so warm and calloused. "It's new... but yes, I think I'll manage." When she looked up again, there was a new resolve in her eyes. She could do this. She would show Tyson what it meant to be with her. She would show that she accepted him in every way. "Come," Vira said titillatingly. She wrapped her fingers around his and pulled in the direction of her home with an enticing smile.  
"Ah-" he staggered after her, grinning, heart thumping from adrenline, but mostly excitement. She looked beautiful with the moon in her hair and that alluring look in her eyes. Just this once, she was his...  
It was a brisk, enlivened walk that took them to the castle, laced with anticipation. Vira was slightly nervous, but she would take it in stride as she did with everything else. She knew that she was ready for this, and so she held her head high and ordered the guards to patrol a different wing tonight. If any of them noticed the Nailo she was tugging along, they didn't make any indication. They hurried up the steps and Vira opened her door with a single touch. _Here we are.._ She walked to a side table and lit a brass lantern that rested on top. "Welcome Tyson," she said happily, removing her coat. In the flickering lights, Tyson looked so much more menacing and intimidating and MALE. Her breath caught and she struggled to relax herself. "For once, your brother won't be able to interrupt us." She stepped closer, lacing her fingers behind his neck. "And we have all night," she breathed.  
Saeran's soaring heart was dampened slightly when she said another man's name. He was almost able to forget that all this enthusiasm wasn't for himself. The edge in her voice when she spoke of him... _Is that how you talk about me when I'm not listening, Princess?_ it made it clear to Saeran that she deserved what was coming to her. But he played along. He brushed her cheek and tucked her hair behind an ear, and pulled her in for a passionate kiss, like so many girls before her. It was Vira... but it was hardly different.  
There was so much enthusiasm in those lips. Vira melted against him, gaining confidence with each second. This is Tyson.. She took a step back and easily pushed him onto the bed, using his own weight as momentum. She laughed at his surprised expression- it was almost like they were sparring again. "Never fails," she tutted, slipping up over him and continuing their kiss. Her body was burning, and she pressed herself into him.

When he pulled away, Vira blinked away the film of wetness that had gathered over her eyes, and stared at him boldly. She was uncertain that such insolence was justifiable, even if Tyson had lost his ration to physical pleasure. Her own breathing was calmer now but still erratic. He was Tyson, but why didn't he seem like Tyson? _You've always followed my commands._ "You will listen to me," she ordered, as strongly as she could given the wave of exhaustion that overtook her. "In the future."  
Saeran sat at the edge of the bed and bit his lip to keep from snarling. He hated that authoritarian edge in her voice. Had he not demonstrated he could do whatever he wanted to her? "I'm not sure what came over me," he managed to say in Tyson's voice. "Does that mean you didn't enjoy yourself?"  
"No, I did," she said honestly. She wasn't upset with him. "It was like nothing else." She pulled her hair out of her face and reclined against her pillows. She held out her arm. "Come here," she said with a lazy smile. Now she simply wanted to relax with the man of her dreams. A perfect end to a wondrous night. "I could use your warmth."  
For a moment Saeran imagined a different end to the night. He could lay wrapped up in Vira until the sun rose... but the magic wouldn't last for much longer. And Tyson himself would encounter her eventually. No, he had to finish the execution of his intervention, once and for all. He reached for his pants and began to redress. "Is that an order?" he asked emotionlessly. "I mean... I finished what I came here for."  
"Excuse you," said Vira lowly yet lividly, glaring daggers. Her eyes were alive again, this time with a rage. Surely she's heard wrong. Tyson's sweet voice wouldn't say such an awful thing.. and yet his question was so in character. She sat up. "I dare you to say that again, Tyson Nailo."  
He looked at her, somewhat confused. "What?" he questioned defensively. "Isn't that what this was all about?" She looked livid. It was working perfectly. Saeran kept eyeing her blankly, while inside he waited with baited breath for her fury to peak.  
"You tell me," Vira stood up, advancing and jabbing his chest with her finger. "Is that all this was to you? A casual affair with the princess of Holimion?" Her words dripped with venom. Tyson was thick, but not this thick. There was no way these past couple of months had meant nothing to him. Her words were fierce, but her heart was twisting dangerously.  
Saeran backed away from her slowly, towards the window. "I... The horses were nice, too," he said lamely. She was a little frightening like this. Saeran recalled the unexpected power in his arms when she threw him on the bed, and thought perhaps a more expeditious exit would be necessary. _Save this fury for the REAL Tyson._  
_The horses._ The horses were the last straw. A gesture of affection on her part was a perk for Tyson Nailo. Along with being the only man ever to touch her body. She dropped her arm. _How could I have been so stupid?_ "Get out now," Vira whispered, her whole body shaking with emotion. The first of many tears to come slipped down her cheek. "Before I do something I'll regret," she pleaded. _Like burn you alive._ She could recognize the danger of her temper, and knew she should be alone.  
"And that IS an order," she added as an afterthought.  
Without another word Saeran swept up the shirt he'd worn here and nearly ran out of her room. He hurried down the corridors, thankfully devoid of guards, as they would have been able to hear the victorious snicker that he indulged in once he was well out of earshot of the princess's bedchambers. He'd succeeded. If that little tear wasn't proof that Vira was just as broken as she deserved to be...  
Once he escaped the castle grounds, Saeran knew he'd won. The only thing left to do was listen in on Tyson the next time he attempted to speak with her. Oh, wouldn't that be something. /What have you done this time, Tyson?/ All their gallivanting and giggling would at last come to an end. And Saeran would be able to rest easy once more knowing that his brother wouldn't be getting any closer with Vira. Sidhion was easily drunk enough to black out when he'd left him in the Yale Tree. Every loose end was tied, and Saeran Nailo was getting away clean.

The moment he was out of sight, Vira blasted her easel with the shot of fire she'd been so wanting to unleash on that clueless face. As it smoldered, Vira closed the door and sat on her floor, feeling lost. She'd been wrong in her judgement of character. She'd never had something so out of her control as this. But what could she do? Order him to love her? Tyson was simply a sybarite who she'd grown fond of. It had been one sided from the beginning, and she had been too blind in her infatuation to see that. All of her talk about right and wrong, her rejection of countless men, her confidence that she could see through any scheme.. she'd certainly learned her lesson. She couldn't really trust anyone. She wrapped her arms around herself and let shameful tears slip at her own foolishness. She should have lost her chastity at Lamara with some meaningless night and some nameless fellow.  
Vira felt sick. She wanted to run to Nailo Estate, and embrace Tyson, and tell him all of the horrible things she felt now so that he could wrap her in his arms and awkwardly change the subject. And now she couldn't. She had no Tyson (to think that she never really did). She had no one in her hour of weakness. Vira was alone.

Tyson peered around the corridor. His classes had ended five minutes prior, and he knew that meant that Vira's had as well. But where was she? Normally they'd find each other in the hallway rather quickly. And even when they didn't, they would meet up at the stairwell. That's when he noticed her exiting a classroom and striding toward the exit in her standard goal-oriented walk and he relaxed. "Vira!" he called, jogging up to walk next to her and easily matching her brisk pace. "In a hurry to leave?" he asked, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"No more than you. I finished what I came here for," she said coldly, keeping her eyes ahead of her.

Tyson was taken aback. Why was she so hostile with him? She had been so kind when he saw her off not twenty-four hours ago. "Oh.."

That was it? No reaction? Just an "oh"? Vira spun on her heel at such a speed that she sent Tyson reeling. She looked into those handsome yet hopelessly bewildered eyes. _Why did you have to be this way?_ "That's all you have to say?"

"..Did you have a nice day of classes?" he asked unsurely. Clearly he was missing something here. He thought he'd conducted himself normally.. perhaps it was one of those princess etiquette things that he didn't understand.

Vira was exasperated. He was acting like nothing had happened at all last night. But she KNEW it hadn't been a dream, if her residual soreness and lack of one easel were anything to go by. "Did you ever like me?" she asked suddenly.

Where in the world was this all coming from? Tyson felt like he'd missed a week of his own life. "Of course! You're great, Vira." Somehow, he was sure he'd said the wrong thing again.

Vira glared at him. She opened her mouth, ready to give him a piece of her mind... And then gave up. Yes, he had wronged her. But he hadn't done it intentionally. All these feelings, all these emotions, they were Vira's and not Tyson's. Was it his fault if he didn't reciprocate her fondness? Was it his fault if he couldn't understand that she wanted more? She hadn't exactly refused his offer to sleep together, so she couldn't really be mad at him now for misconstruing the gravity of it to her. She sighed sadly and looked up into his eyes with all the hurt of a girl who had been grotesquely mistreated. "Tyson Nailo," she said officially. "I'm afraid we can no longer be friends. I've enjoyed your company the past few months, but after..." She shook her head. "I don't want to associate with someone like you. Please don't approach me again." Vira wiped at her eyes, though they were dry, and left Tyson standing shocked.

Tyson didn't want to go after her, seeing as she'd just told him not to. But what had he done to so drastically alter her opinion of him? Maybe she'd expected him to do something or say something, and he'd taken too long. Maybe he had forgotten something important. Maybe.. Tyson's eyes widened as he understand. Maybe Saeran had been right all along. She didn't want to be seen with him. _Someone like me, huh?_ That must be it. She, like so many others in his life, including his own family, couldn't bear to be seen with him in public. He'd thought Vira was different. Tyson clenched his teeth. He'd thought he'd found a friend who didn't care about labels and social standing and "aberrational behavior". But she'd cared all along. And now the rumors and whispers were too much for her, and he was wrecking her image. He wouldn't approach her again.  
Tyson punched the wall then, hoping the pain in his hand would overwhelm the pain in his chest that he'd long since grown callous to. Instead, they both hurt, and an instructor shouted at him about damaging public property before he muttered "bill the estate" and left, slamming the door shut in his wake. He didn't need Vira after all.

Saeran was on top of the world as he left his last class of the day, and what a surprise to see Vira Aldmae glowering in the hallway and coming straight his way. Saeran put on a charming grin, unable to supress the image from last night of her unclothed and yearning for him that sprung into his mind's eye. "Why hello, Princess. I-" She pushed right past him and Saeran held back a smirk. Supposedly she'd already found Tyson and told him what for. Shame he hadn't been there to hear it for himself.

Sidhion was not his usual bubbly self this day. He'd had an awful morning, and a migraine that had carried over from last night. He had always taken pride in his good ear, but this was one of those times he regretted being able to hear at all. Naturally, he simply would have gone to get it healed, but there was too much that he was struggling to remember. And considering his own work with memories and fabrications, he didn't want to risk forgetting. He remembered Saeran... and Tyson..? Was that right? Had Tyson joined he and Saeran at the Yale Tree?

Speak of the devil. Saeran was walking in all his fiendishly charming glory, unmistakable. "Hm. You have some explaining to do," Sidhion said lackadaisically. He felt like he'd barely slept. Not that he could remember.  
Saeran's grin slipped for a moment. "Sidhion. You're looking... Well, not quite as cheery as you ought to be." _Oh, bother. Everything will be fine if you just don't meddle now, Sidhion. Please forget you saw me._ Saeran picked at his fingernails and hoped Sidhion would drop it and just let him step on by...  
"As I ought to be? Let's see.. I woke up this morning next to a man I've never met before- in a nearly penurious area of town. I hardly remember going out, yet I am experiencing a SEVERE hangover..." He smirked, leaning in so that his breath ghosted over Saeran's neck and running a finger down his arm. "Tell me, how should I act?" He felt well enough to tease his friend at the very least.  
Saran leaned away, smirking despite the uncomfortable flirting Sidhion insisted on subjecting him to. It wouldn't be Sidhion without a little unwanted advancing. "I thought waking up in a stranger's bed was your favorite way to start the day," he joked. "Did you make friends?"  
Sidhion grimaced. There were reasons he didn't like to overindulge. "He was a one time thing, but that's beside the point. What I'D like to know is where you ran off to last night." He looked into Saeran's eyes with a no nonsense expression. _I know more than you think._ He had one clear image of Saeran mentioning some sort of plan that he would explain later.  
Saeran's stomach dropped through the floor. Apparently he hadn't pumped enough mead into Sidhion to make him forget the whole thing ever happened. To do damage control, he needed to know just how much Sidhion could recall. "Me?" he asked, no sign of panic in his lucid voice. "I'm not sure what you mean... I had a bit to drink too, you know. What did I say exactly?"  
Sidhion could see that his question had frustrated Saeran. But it seemed they were going to play calm. "You said a lot of things. A "little plan cooking" comes to mind." Sidhion was positive of that much at least. "It must have been something important." He was perhaps a tad too close to Saeran, but if he was intimidated then perhaps he might let something slip. At any rate, it was easier to read him at this proximity.  
Saeran cleared his throat. "Maybe I had a bit of mischeif in the works." he muttered, glacing over his shoulder for onlookers. They were alone, but the location was far from secretive. "Nothing too terrible. Let's leave it at that, hm?"  
Usually a 'bit of mischief' didn't require him to thoroughly saturate Sidhion with alcohol. But if Saeran didn't want to tell him, then he supposed he'd let it slide. Though he wished there wouldn't be this sort of secrecy adding friction to their rocky relationship, he figured it was also a one time thing. He flicked Saeran's ear. "Very well," he agreed, starting his walk toward the exit. "But you really should include me next time," Sidhion called petulantly over his shoulder.  
Saeran grinned and nodded in farewell. _Oh, but I did._ Sidhion couldn't recall the spell. Or the promise he'd made to repay him later. Oh, goodness, he was dreading the possibily of that obligation. But no matter. Everything went exactly according to plan. Saeran headed home, a positive spring in his step, hoping he could maybe catch Tyson sulking around over the loss of his little girlfriend. All was well indeed.


	10. Saeran

Vira,  
Tyson and I are close at hand. He is resentful, but cooperative. His comrades were equally oblidged to come to defend the city, and we are only a day's journey away now. By all expectation, we will be in Mierta with the heads of a hydra by the time you recieve this letter.  
Starhold was little of a tourist destination, but I am content to know that soon I will be walking among the trees again soon. I dare not wonder if you missed me. I hope when we meet again, you will give me the honor of your private audience. There is an important question I want to pose of you, and I am unwilling to go into detail over parchment. You may dismiss this as meaningless flattery, but I miss your eyes and the smell of your hair.  
I should warn you, the life of a mercenary has not been kind to my brother. You may not immediately recognize him for all the scars, but it certainly makes it easier to say who is the more handsome Na lo brother.  
My mission nears completion. I want you to know that I did it for my brother and for my kingdom, but most of all, simply because you asked.  
To speak informally, I will see you soon.  
Always yours,  
Saeran Na lo.

No sooner had Saeran folded his letter than begin to hear a terrible commotion outside. He stood to look through the window of Verac's house, anxious. Though Tyson was trivial and vexing, Saeran always felt safer around him. Without him here, Searan was scared.  
Goblins were eveywhere. They were ransacking the village, their caravan, the natives. Saeran leapt away from the window and hurried to seal his letter. It was important that it make it to Vira unsoiled by fiendish hands. He tucked it into his doublet barely in time to have the thatch door come crashing in.  
"Stop!" Saeran cried desperately, fear in his voice. "If you touch me, you WILL regret it." Before he knew what was happening, Saeran was on his knees, and a club came crashing down on his head with a sharp pain. Then all was black.


	11. It

Jennessa found Tyson, relaxing on the couch, and her palms sweat as she thought about how she was in his home with only him. It was remarkable to think that he trusted her to be around him when he'd so recently slammed the door on Sly's nose. She would much rather be with him than in some tavern in a town where no one knew her name. It was frightening to think how slavery was only a slipped tongue away, but if Tyson kept her close like this, then it wouldn't ever matter.  
Her pounding heart urged her to speak the words always in the back of her mind; how desperately she wanted to be embraced by him, how he was the only man in the world for her, how it pained her to see him hurt, how she'd love nothing more than to take him upstairs and give herself to him. But when she opened her mouth, her breath left her before the words could form. Confession was hopeless. Jennessa slowly slipped away before he noticed her longing gaze in the back of his head.  
She wanted Tyson so badly. But every chance she had when he was alone or drinking or lonely, there was something else in the way, either guard duty or their comrades or just too much alcohol. Tonight, however, it was only him, her, and a house full of empty bedrooms. She just needed a plan.  
Miscellaneous clothes were littered still around the house from the (unsuccessful) party the night before. Jennessa perused the littered garments and found something sufficiently seductive. She snuck away to a washroom to test it out, and found that not only was it too small and tight for her tall frame, but also nearly see through. Jennessa blushed at her own reflection and quickly switched back into her chemise.  
"So how long are you going to stand there? What are you going to be doing in an hour?" Sly asked, his voice muffled through the door. Tyson just crossed his arms unbelieving. Like he was going to answer that.  
"Go away, Sly."  
"Awww, come on! Let me innn." After a few more minutes of unsuccessful whining, Tyson felt Sly's corrupted presence slip away, and blew out an exhausted sigh. He'd been dragging around bodies all day, and he was more than ready to just relax in his Mierta Spring home. Jennessa was already upstairs, probably asleep in one of the bedrooms. He grabbed a bottle of mead that was left over from last night (honestly, only seventy guests), and undid the clasps on his armor, throwing it down in the corner of the room and jumping onto his couch. He folded one arm behind his head and closed his eyes as he sipped his drink. Finally a moment of peace. He didn't really remember much of last night, but the place was a mess, so it must have been fantastic. He'd leave cleanup to hired servants.  
Something suitable finally appeared, among the clothes that peppered the floor The sluts really wrecked Tyson's home. I'm glad none of them got too close to him. On Jennessa's body the shoulders hung, though the midriff was fitting and the skirt close. It was elegant, sliky, obviously Elven, and a soft, pale blue. Thank Tina it was blue. Jennessa took a deep breath to steel herself for what sweetness lie on the horizon, and left the washroom with her own clothes hanging on the back of the door.  
Jennessa hid how much her knees shook and her heart fluttered as she tossed her hair and moved with a deliberate casualness through Tyson's field of vision.  
Tyson felt movement and opened an eye to see Jennessa walk into the room. Oh, it's just- His eyes widened as he took in what she was wearing. Where in the world did she get that? She certainly hadn't been wearing it earlier. He took her in from top to bottom, noticing the striking contrast of the blue with her own hair. The high hemline did not escape him, and he wished he could see Jennessa in clothes like this more often... Wait, this was Jennessa. His comrade. What was he.. "Jennessa...?" he questioned softly. Did she need something? Was she going somewhere? He felt a pang of jealousy rip through him at the thought of Jennessa dressing this way to entertain another man.  
Jennessa could hardly stand the way he looked at her. She wished he would just pounce on her. Jennessa swallowed and nibbled her lower lip, before she shook herself back to the plan. "It's late. I think I'll go to my bedroom and read a good book," she said with a warm smile. A few more steps across the room brought her before the staircase. A glance at his face told her that it wasn't enough. Time seemed slow and there was an ache between her legs, but she forced herself to say something more obvious before she left.  
"I'll leave the door unlocked," she said softly. Suggestively. Then she simply couldn't stand looking at him any more without having him pressed against her. She looked away and gracefully ascended the stairs.  
Tyson watched her hips very femininely waltz up the stairwell. Then he processed what she said and sat, surprised, for a minute. She was going to read? Why was she going dressed like that? And why did she need to tell him that? Why was she leaving her door unl- Oh. OH. Tyson set his drink down on the table, striding up the stairs after her not a minute later, and knocked lightly on her door.  
Jennessa took the time to carefully select a pose to be discovered in. Not a lewd one, but it had to be girlish and yet womanly. Finally she lay propped up against beautiful pillows, legs folded to keep the short nightgown low enough for some modesty (at least for now), with a book in her hand though she could hardly concentrate on the words in front of her. Anxiety made her heart pound. She was so ready, but would he understand? Or would he only be disappointed in her for being so immodest, like the other girls he could have? What if Tyson never came upstairs? What if he did?  
Knock. Knock. Knock.  
Jennessa could have died then and there. This was it. Tyson finally picked up on it, and there was nothing to interrupt them this time. She took a deep breath to replace the one that escaped her, and called sweetly, "It's unlocked."  
Tyson opened the door slowly to a sight that quickened his breath. He had been right in his supposition. She was clearly waiting for him. And her eyes said it all. She wanted him, he was sure. So he closed the door behind him, turning the lock more for effect than anything else, and approached her without breaking eye contact. When he reached the bedside, he plucked the book from her hands and closed it, setting it on the nightstand. He kicked his shoes off and knelt on the edge of the bed, moving himself forward to position himself on his hands over her midriff.  
Oh, yes. It's perfect. He followed! And locked the door. He understood, and for this night he was hers and only hers. She couldn't care less that he didn't keep the page, she wouldn't remember it anyway. As he leaned close, Jennessa started to lay back. She lacked practical knowledge in this domain, but she knew that if she let Tyson guide her, it would all be wonderful. It warmed her pounding heart to know that this time, he came seeking her.  
Jennessa found restraint suddenly impossible. All caution cast aside, she bolted forward and grabbed him by the scarf. She locked eyes with him a moment- his gaze looked almost hungry- and squeezed them shut to press her mouth to his. She kissed him with every bit of passion and longing she worked to hide from the rest of the party, and dragged him down with her on top of the bed.

Tyson would not say it was the best he'd had. The act itself had been rather simple, and he had done most of the moving, but he didn't mind. Something had still seemed heavier about this. He closed his eyes as she whispered her words of praise, which stroked his ego, and lowered them back onto the mattress. He looked into her eyes, staring so warmly up at his own, and by some odd impulse he kissed her forehead and then rolled onto his back next to her. He was so relaxed and contented, and not on edge. And he lazily turned his head to face her and place a kiss on her lips when a thought struck him. He'd never experienced a woman so.. taught, and uncontrolled in raw fire and emotion. And that could have been just Jennessa's character, but connecting that to her lack of initiative and the sheen he was sure he'd detected over her eyes when they'd begun, then... Oh. "Jennessa.. You've never been with other men. Not like this," he stated surely.  
Jennessa was glowing with happiness, but her smile slipped when he turned and addressed her. He seemed almost accusatory. "No." she said simply. He should know that already. Her inexperience was obvious, even to their friends in the party. And he was the first man she'd even kissed. And the only one she'd ever had feelings like this for. "Of course not."  
And he knew it was true, and yet hearing her say it.. He had never known a woman to be a virgin. Most elven women he knew had their first experiences at their first Lamara, at least half a century younger than he was now. But Jennessa was seventeen... Only seventeen. But she had wanted this, so he could look past any racial differences and not have to feel guilty. Still, he wished he'd known sooner, so that he might have made it more ideal. He sighed and wrapped an arm around her waist to pull her into him and he buried his face in her hair in a rare gesture of affection. "Okay." He didn't know what else to say without sounding foolishly uninformed. And currently, he was more physically worn than anything else.  
Jennessa couldn't help but giggle. "Why would I want to be with anyone else?" she said sweetly as she cuddled close to him. He seemed so tired, and she felt a little sleepy too, but also so full of life and energy. Jennessa couldn't wait until the next time she was alone with him. But for now, this would do. Lying in bed with Tyson, just him and her and nothing else in the world. Let's not tell Sly.  
"I'm not.." he whispered nearly inaudibly. He could see why a woman from Holimion would want to be with him, but what did Jennessa have to gain. She claimed to appreciate his company and his personality, but he wouldn't be new and exciting forever. This is what he could offer her. We have nothing exclusive he reminded himself. This is just sex.. That was right, wasn't it? He let it go. "Good night, Jennessa," he said, more contently. Let's not tell Sly about this. And he closed his eyes and let himself drift away.  
"Good night, Tyson." Jennessa sighed happily. She pressed herself against his bare chest, not the least bit bashful about her naked breasts. Not now, anyway. She was so glad she'd mustered up the courage to find that nightgown and invite him to her room, because now she'd given her maidenhood to Tyson. If nothing else, the jokes would stop. She thought about that last thing he'd said before bidding her good night. What did he mean? He was special to her, and she cared about him, and he knew all that. What's more, he felt the same way about her. Obviously. Why else would he hold her hand and give her gentle kisses and stand in front of her in battle and follow her upstairs to lie with her? Maybe he just meant, "I'm not sure, because we're obviously a perfect couple," or "I'm not going to let anything bad happen to you ever again," or just "I'm not going back to my room tonight. Let me sleep here." Tyson was a man of few words, after all. "You're okay, right?" Jennessa whispered into his ear, for which the only response was a happy snore. Jennessa sighed and rested her head on his big shoulder. It wasn't the first time he'd fallen asleep in her bed. She only hoped he would remember the night, because it was the most important one of her life.  
"It's true, you were my first." she whispered to the sleeping man she was wrapped up in. "And it was wonderful. I hope it's always you. Because there's no one in the world I'd rather be with." More snores. She sighed. It was just as well-she couldn't bring herself to say these things out loud in front of him. "Please, don't let me lose you," Jennessa muttered into his chest weakly. "Tyson, I-"  
She couldn't say it. Her tongue curled into an 'L' but the word simply wouldn't form. She didn't have the courage. It was a frightening word after all. Once she said it, it was then that he would be ripped from her arms into the jowls of some wretched beast and she'd lose him forever. And it would hurt so much more to have admitted it. Jennessa's eyes shut as she faltered. That sentence would remain unfinished.  
"Thank you for letting me be yours." she said instead. And she curled into his still, unclothed chest and slipped away into sleep.


	12. Herbs

The group split apart, and Jennessa fought off a shiver and drew her cloak closer around her. "Don't start," she muttered as Esther opened her beak to say something, unlikely to be helpful. "I don't want to talk right now."  
"You don't even know what-"  
"It doesn't matter. About Tyson. Or the dream. Or this damn cold. Just...help with the Notiblius, okay?" Jennessa finished with a frustrated sigh. Esther gave her one more worried glance through glassy green eyes and fluttered away wordlessly, leaving Jennessa alone in the cold with just her thoughts and an endless task.  
_'KILL-!'_ Tyson dug his palms into his eyes in pain as he fought to ignore the shield's voice yet again. Finally, he removed his shield and attached it to Ellifain's carrier bags. The horse looked at him sympathetically and nipped at his tousled hair. Slightly paler, he adjusted his scarf around his neck before his eyes searched out Jennessa's unmistakable red hair in the icy terrain. Then he remembered how disturbed she'd looked this morning, her facial expression reflecting that of his own innermost thoughts. It would seem they were both having an awful morning thus far.  
When he looked to Sly and Verrik, they had already gone ahead of the group and were searching for these twelve point leaves or whatever they were. Now was as good as time as any to catch up with her, or at least be a presence. Besides, he was no botanist.  
Jennessa couldn't stop yet another chilling tear to fall across her cheek, but she gave up trying to wipe them away long ago. What was he doing in her dreams, anyway? A twig snapped. Jennessa turned to see what monster lurched forward for her, though half of her didn't care if it would tear her apart. When she looked, the only villain in the vicinity was Tyson, coming towards her with purpose. She turned away pointedly and pretended not to notice him.  
She looked up, but must not have noticed him because she simply continued searching. He knelt down a few feet away and started digging his own hole. He made a pile of leaves that appeared to be twelve-pointed, but really he couldn't care less about this plant. He just needed to be near someone. He cleared his throat and waited for Jennessa to look up at him. From what he could see of her face, she looked drawn and tired. But they all did. The last few days had been something of a blur, all molded together. He barely remembered talking to the slaveowner, but knew that somehow he had convinced him to let him speak to the slave. If he believed more in religion and the gods, and their influence, he might think that somehow Saeran had aided in his diplomacy. But as it was, his luck had simply made up for Sly's cowardice.  
Jennessa closed her eyes and tried to draw some patience from deep inside her. She looked over her shoulder at Tyson. "What?" she not so much asked as growled.  
Tyson knew hostility when he heard it, and for a fleeting moment, he thought maybe she'd been wounded in the fight against the polar bear. But that couldn't be, he'd stood between the bear and her. He would have noticed. He looked at her questioningly, actually LOOKING for the first time in a while. It was so much more difficult to focus lately. Blunt as ever, he asked, "Is there something you wish to say to me?" For the time being, he stopped gathering the "Notiblius" (which, incidentally, was just a common strain of mint).  
Fury flashed through Jennessa. How could he ask such a thing? As if he had done nothing wrong? She turned on her heel and folded her arms, fistful of leaves included. "Yeah. Yeah, there are a couple of things I'd like to say to you. Like how I thought Paladins were supposed to conduct themselves with HONOR."  
Surprise and anger rushed through him. What was she talking about? He stood up indignantly. "I have honor," he swore.  
Jennessa raised her eyebrows incredulously. His frivolous stand-offishness was no longer endearing to her. It only made her angrier. "Oh? Then tell me, Sir Nailo," she nearly spat his name, "why you decided to openly sleep around with prostitues when you KNEW how much I cared about you?" Jennessa was finding it hard to keep her voice down.  
He took a step back to stand more securely. His name, with title so mockingly thrown in, strung his ears like some biting acidic toxin. Could he still be considered a Nailo? "I don't What business is it of yours if I'm entertained by a whore?" Which might not have been the best thing to say at this moment. But Tyson hated doing wrong. Even more, he hated feeling guilty. And apparently, he had done something very wrong to the one person in his life who cared about him so much still. "I paid them," he added. Was she insinuating he would do something so dishonorable as rob someone for something so primitive as pleasure?  
His lackluster explanation cut like a knife at Jennessa. She staggered backwards. "Tyson... How can you say that?" It was too cold for her eyes to be watering now, she thought, especially in front of him, the handsome jerk who inexplicably appeared in her dreams still. "I don't care what you gave them. That doesn't matter! What matters is that you betrayed me. I t-trusted you." Her strength faltered on that last sentance, and she had to turn away from him because she couldn't look at that face any more (a face that did not register at all how much he had hurt her) "You had me fooled, alright? I thought that I meant more to you than just... 'entertainment'."  
"What are you talking about?" She looked like she was going to cry, and he couldn't understand what he'd done wrong. Now Tyson was simply confused. "I do care for you. You aren't " _the same as them. You're everything._  
Jennessa almost shuddered. "Liar," she muttered. She glared up at him despite how she only wanted to run away. "I heard you telling Sly about the whores. And I saw you with Vira at the party." At first she thought Tyson had loved the Princess all along, but now she knew it didn't matter to him with whom his next night was spent. Now she was just another number among his many scores.  
"Vira?" When he was ordered by royal decree to accompany her? Jennessa (and Sly to an extent) was the only person he cared for at all anymore. But she didn't believe him. He'd lost his brother, he'd lost his parents, he'd lost his home, and now he was losing Jennessa. "I "  
"You don't care for me. And you never did, did you?" The night they spent in the garden, and the sweet things he murmered only to her... only lies that she wanted desperately to believe.  
At her final statement, Tyson suddenly paled. He staggered back, finding the frosty air more biting than before, and impossible to breathe, before turning on a heel and heading back down the mountain to where he'd left his Ellifain.  
Just as usual, when Jennessa poured her heart out to him, Tyson was wordless. "Fine!" her voice shook as she cried out to him. Tears blurred her vision and she could only make him out by his trailing scarlet scarf in the snow. "I never should have trusted you," she muttered, talking either to Tyson in the distance but more likely her own aching heart. In his lack of explanation, he confirmed all her fears. Jennessa wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her new robes and shook herself back to the task at hand.  
_He never loved you back._

_But why?_ some reasonable voice deep within her began to inquire. _Assume Tyson did not have affection for you. Therefore, he would have taken any opportunity to fornicate. Exception one - he threw a woman from his bed to take a walk in the park. Exception two - he denied the opportunity to lie with you when he had to stand guard. Exception three - He offered to run away with you._  
_He was... only keeping up appearances._ Jennessa struggled to explain to herself.

_He envied your affection for Saeran. 'You will be no one's slave.'_

_He protects me because I am weak and he needs me._ But still Jennessa started to wonder if her assertions were incorrect. Her treasonous heart swelled with hope, but it was curiosity that led her feet away from the woods and after Tyson.  
Tyson walked mindlessly until the snort and whinny of his concerned mare broke through his wallowing thoughts. She nudged his shoulder as if to say, 'where do you think you're going, Tyson?'  
Rather than continue, he simply threw his arms around her neck and rested his forehead against her fine warm neck, oblivious to the soft crunches that grew closer. Ellifain's ears twitched, but she knew who it was, so she stayed relaxed and stood with her paladin.  
"Just tell me why," Jennessa asked quietly once she found him. Her voice was not quite as cold as before, but not warm by any means. "You could have taken me much earlier than you did. Why did you wait?" _Did you want to me beg?_  
Tyson didn't even move at Jennessa's voice. If he used to be surprised when Jennessa followed him, he wasn't anymore. He'd long since grown use to the attention, though often times it was the last thing he wanted. He let his arms slip from his trusted companion. "I didn't sleep with you for simple pleasure. Nor did I have a goal in mind" He paused thoughtfully. "You're my friend." He met her eyes now.  
"You're wrong about me, Jennessa," Tyson said softly, trying to show he the meaning inside him through nothing but his eyes.  
Jennessa froze. Now she was the one hopelessly confused. She wanted to believe him, so badly. But what if he lied again? "You..." she began, eyes wide. She shook her head clear, stifling yet another shiver. "You've been so distant since we arrived." she muttered. This was the first time since their night together she'd gotten a good look in his eyes. "I assumed that you lost interest in me." _Tell me I was wrong._  
Tyson shook his head. "I don't.." But he HAD been distant. He sighed. "Things have been difficult." Everything. He had talked his way into a slaveowners' basement nonviolently, which is something that wasn't him. At all. And maybe it was his brother's memory that had enhanced his speech craft and made the prospect of talking to someone somehow more bearable. "I haven't been sure of much of anything," he admitted. Her eyes tore it from him. "But I am sure about you. You are all I really have left," he said stoically, but it still came out somewhat hollow. He searched her eyes for approval or acceptance or comfort. The things he had come to associate with Jennessa.  
Jennessa's heart dropped through her stomach at the last thing she expected him to say. Tyson never talked like that. Either he really meant it, or his lies were getting desperate, and she was foolish and hopeful enough to have faith in the former. She rubbed at her shoulders for warmth and breathed a small sigh into the frigid air, with a shadow of a smile warming her face. Tyson's eyes were looking into hers desperately. Jennessa didn't want him to know how badly she wanted to believe him. She didn't want him to know how easy it would be to trick her over and over again. "That's not true," she said finally. "You may have lost your brother, but you have family still."  
The slightest twitch upward of her lips. If he hadn't been so focused, he never would have noticed it. But nothing had relaxed him more in the past week than that single motion. At mention of his family however he tensed again, idly fingering Saeran's ring in his pocket. The letter. They don't want him. He didn't have a family now. He didn't want to talk about that. 'Don't bother returning home. You're as dead to us as our better son, whom you failed to protect.' Finally he met Jennessa's eyes again. "No, I don't," he said, with a tone of finality and detectable angst. He remembered when he'd left. How his father had bought him the battle-axe on display over his hearth at home (Starhold, not here). His mother, brushing tears away, said 'Your home will always be waiting for you.' And after all of that, he supposed lies were all they were. Keeping up appearances. Playing the roles of loving parents. He'd never read anything more honest in his life. And now he knew the truth. "They don't wish to see me."  
Jennessa started, eyes wide. "What?" Then she recalled the letter crumpled at Tyson's feet when she found him sulking in an alleyway. And the sadness in his eyes when they passed the Nailo house. And how Saeran was the good son. It amazed Jennessa how her own jealousy had clouded her perception when Tyson needed her. "That... that's awful."  
Tyson shook his head. "Don't pity me. Just.." He didn't know what he wanted from her. Reassurance? Comfort? Could he live with her hatred as long as she didn't leave him? He pulled his scarf up around his neck and turned his saddened eyes away. "We should go back to finding that leaf," he said disinterestedly as he worked to compose his expression.  
_No! _Tyson was finally speaking his thoughts to her. _Don't shut me out all over again!_ Jennessa lunged forward and reached out to him, then, uncertainly, placed her hand on his forearm in a comforting sort of way. "I-I understand. I think." Jennessa cringed as she instantly regretted her words. There was no way she could understand how Tyson felt, even though her mother was just as disproving. They had Millie, at least. "If you want to talk to them, I'll be there for you," she said softly.  
Tyson pulled his arm away, immediately regretting it. But what could she know about his family? "I don't." He didn't understand how they could pretend to care. He didn't understand why it was that everyone in this confounded empire loved lying so much. Jennessa's eyes had so much caring. Just like they normally did when they looked at him. And he took a deep breath, and gave a tight, wry sort of smirk. "I appreciate it. But I won't be meeting with them." As far as it concerned them, he WAS dead. They could go on with their lives free from bother. As Tyson would, his.  
Jennessa felt something rip inside her when he pulled away. She nodded. "Right. Okay. I just..." She looked away and rubbed her shoulder, feeling awkward. _I shouldn't keep putting myself out there like that. For you to stomp on my heart._ "well, back in Starhold you... you promised to show me your mother's lilies," she finished to the ground.  
Tyson remembered that time. Things were simpler then. His brother was alive. His family still wanted him home. And he could fantasize about returning one day. Now that he was here, everything was all too real. "Jennessa," he said softly at last. _Please don't ask me to._ How would he tell her that was never going to happen? That he'd rather die than go back? He would first fight a hundred dragons and propose to the Princess. He took her hand. "Everything's different now."  
Jennessa sighed and squeezed his hand. He wouldn't be introducing her to his parents, and she was certainly never getting her hands on that library card. "Right," she murmured. "Everything's been... well, awful." She couldn't even rescue the people helplessly enslaved in this kingdom. And now Steve was in her nightmares. Jennessa's teeth clenched without her notice.  
Tyson's brow furrowed. Jennessa looked stressed suddenly. Perhaps it was because he had- but were those bags? "Are you alright?" Now that she was close up, he could see that strain had taken its toll on them all. There were worry lines on Jennessa that hadn't been there before. And Sly had a couple of grey hairs around his ears now. He pressed his fingers into her frigid palm and rubbed circles to warm it up.  
How could he always tell what was on her mind? Jennessa's shoulders fell and she shook her head. "Fighting monsters I can handle. This is... hard. This city is not what I am used to." She sighed. There was no one she could tell but him, really, so she might as well let it out while he cared. "The Divine Trickster visited me last night," she said weakly.  
Tyson inhaled sharply. His hand subconsciously moved to rest over his abdomen, where he had been stabbed by the god so many months ago. Even Ellifain's ears pricked cautiously. He gripped her hand securely. "Did he hurt you?" he questioned.  
Jennessa couldn't help but look at him from such a reaction. _He hurt YOU._ "No. Worse than that. It was..." She couldn't tell him. What good would it be to make him more apprehensive? "a bad omen. It's shaken me because... I don't know how true it is." She swallowed, hoping he wouldn't pry. "It could only be a dream."  
Odd.. Tyson nodded. "Don't worry about something that hasn't happened yet. And we'll stay together. You me and Sly." He still remembered their last encounter. When his shield had been set ablaze. The shield had not been pleased, and had tried to convince him for the weeks that passed that cutting off his hand was a goo idea. For Justice's sake, he hoped they didn't run into the Trickster.  
_We'll stay together,_ Jennessa's thoughts echoed. She squeezed his warm hand, somewhat comforted. _What if that's just it? Is Steve telling me that I'll be the death of you?_ Jennessa swallowed. Even furious with him, Tyson appeared in her dreams at her side. Even while he was with the Princess, he rushed to bring her back from the brink of death. And then Jennessa believed he really would stay with her. As long as he could. She nodded vacantly at the scarred face she was sure wouldn't ever be able to let go.  
Tyson glanced around. No one was around, save for Ellifain. And do he put his hand on her cheek, pausing for a moment to allow her to pull away, before leaning in to press his own chapped lips chastely to hers. He looked in her eyes with a promise. _I won't let anyone hurt you._ He couldn't say that everything would be okay. But right now, in this moment, things were. Because even though they were broken, and battle worn, and the universe seemed to be pining against them, they were standing here together. Tyson felt his chest burn. He was more alive than he'd been since that fateful day against the hydra that had flipped his entire world upside down. Now he was allowing himself to think and feel and REMEMBER. And Jennessa was here accepting all of him.  
Jennessa refused to let her eyes water up the way they threatened to. But Tyson left her emotions so exposed. She wanted to cry because she was sure she loved him. And she was sure she'd lose him. She broke eye contact and rested her head against his chest, just to take a moment for herself. Then, when she managed to fight back the tears, she stepped back and looked up at Tyson with a guarded expression. "Right, so... Look for twenty-one points." Jennessa loosened her grip on his hand, though the last thing she wanted to do was leave him for a moment, lest he slip away for good.  
Tyson hoped he had vanquished any doubts that Jennessa had, but she seemed distant in her response. He wouldn't press his luck, but.. "You mean twelve," he corrected, brushing some snow out of his hair and moving back toward the tree bases from which they had been harvesting the various herbs earlier. He felt raw and exposed, but somehow stronger now, and gave up trying to understand his own emotions, or whatever happened to them somehow every time that he interacted with Jennessa.  
Jennessa turned away with a sigh, somehow even colder now that Tyson was gone, but at least she had gained the resolve to continue scavenging for..._Wait, what?_ "Acutally-" But Tyson was gone again. With a frustrated sigh she went her own way before Sly or Verrik noticed her moment with Tyson. Hopefully they had a better grasp of the task.


	13. Red

Tyson bit back a grunt as he was thrown face first into the gravel, and he heard the clang of a prison gate that he had thought he'd never hear again after leaving Brontown. He slowly rose to his knees, lifting his cuffed hands to where the skin on his jaw had split and wiping the blood away (and smearing dirt). He felt eyes on him, and didn't lift his head to see his cellmates, but moved himself to the corner where hopefully they would stop staring at him. They didn't.

He could still see Vira's expression, expertly schooled to convey nothing as she placed the manacles upon his wrists and forced him away from the people he had vowed to protect. But he knew her better than anyone else in this kingdom, save for Jennessa and Sly. And he could see the fury. She hadn't said a word to him. But perhaps there weren't any words to say. Tyson had betrayed her, and betrayed the people of Oakleaf. And now, their death and possibly the genocide of many more were on his shoulders alone. He could hear the voice of his shield in his head. It didn't matter if he was near it anymore. 'You've failed. You've failed...'

Through the woods, away from the city, and into camp they traveled, Jennessa all the while wanting nothing but to take Tyson's hand in comfort. To think how much she'd looked up to Vira in admiration, and now the wretch had given a mark of shame and labeled a traitor the noblest man who'd ever lived. It made her blood boil to see the red stain on his face. He didn't deserve this, he didn't ask for this, and it wasn't fair or right.

And then she was told she couldn't see him, that he was a prisoner, and that she was supposed to be with the other wizards (and Sly who tagged along.) And although the wizards' tent was decadently layered with silk pillows and wool blankets, Jennessa was certain she couldn't sleep without Tyson nearby.

Jennessa lie in the dwelling she'd been so eager to gain admittance to, now only staring glumly at the canopy. It made her sick. To think that Vira had demanded Tyson return to the kingdom only to be made a fool of. What could she have expected from him? It wasn't just to bring a man of such principals to his knees only for doing what he thought was right!

She couldn't stand it a moment longer. Jennessa threw on her robes and marched out of the luxurious tent, toward the outrageous holding pen of the bravest hero she'd ever known, and other villainous scum.

Tyson thought about Vira, and wondered how she could force him back to this kingdom if she knew he couldn't stop being himself. And he thought about Jennessa, and how he couldn't look in her eyes and see the disappointment that may be lurking there. He thought about Krista, and how she looked at him like an object of complete unimportance. And he thought about the other prisoners in this tent, and how they had no desire to talk to him or threaten him, because they all had terrible fates to look forward to and they'd simply given up. And then Tyson thought about his family, and how his brother was dead, and his parents were at home mourning the loss of one son, and soon to be mourning the shame of the other. He may spend the rest of his life as a slave in the kingdom he'd tried so hard to escape. Tyson decided he didn't much want to think right now.

He closed his eyes because between the drow, the goblins, the gargoyle, and his own battered form, there really wasn't anything he want to look at right now. He could hear murmurs of discussion at the front of the tent, but then his ears picked up the voice of someone familiar. His eyes shot open and he perked up. _Jennessa._ Tyson hissed when he aggravated the injuries that he hadn't been worthy of having healed, but shifted closer to the door all the same, so that he might hear better. _What are you doing here?_

"I don't give a _damn_ about your protocol! I'm his...wizard. Let me in, NOW!" Guards at the prison cage hastily parted to let the furious mage with the flashing eyes pass through, and anger turned to concern when at last she could see Tyson again. Jennessa bolted to his side, hating the bars that separated her from throwing her arms around him again.

"Oh, they won't even give you your own cell? Tyson..." Her cloudy eyes raced over his form, stained, scarred, battered, disheartened, and she tried to get a glimpse into his eyes even though she feared it might break her heart.

Tyson's pride was beaten, and dampened, and all but destroyed, but it still existed, and he wouldn't be slumped on the ground like a rag doll next to Jennessa. So he forced himself to his feet to stand before her, his chains rattling together and clinging against the bars as he grabbed them for stability. He leaned against the wall heavily, and met her eyes reluctantly. Even in the years he spent roaming the world on his own, nothing compared to how alone he felt when Vira had branded him, and his own people looked at him with a burning hatred if at all. He had never wanted Jennessa to come with him to Holimion, but now he was really glad that she had. "Why are you here?" he asked her, trying to sound stoic, but it came out more desperate than he liked.

Jennessa's heart wrenched and she clapped a hand onto his, over the bars of the prison. If it was the only contact she could have, she'd take it. _Oh Tyson..._ "I couldn't stay away," Jennessa confessed. His pale eyes were so grim and full of pain, and Jennessa was choked but she didn't look away, just matched his gaze with a burning defiance in her eyes. "You're not going to stay here," she breathed, adamant.

For once, he didn't pull his hands away, and just let her hold them. Her eyes were so worried, and so full of pity, and his stomach twisted. He couldn't keep looking at her so he stared at their hands, but he really wanted to lean forward and press his lips to hers for caring so much. About _him_. All the same, he shook his head slowly. "Yes I am. Until Vira decides to move me." He swallowed carefully. "You shouldn't be in here." The last thing he wanted to do was send her away, but he couldn't have her get into trouble because of him.

Jennessa just squeezed his hand tighter. "After what she's has done to you?" she growled, suddenly filled with a deep hatred at the sound of Vira's name. "There is no way in hell I am leaving you here like this." Jennessa's eyes traveled down from his face masked with dark hair, stained and curled from all the blood of the day's battle, down to the chains that bound his wrists and it made her sick. _You should never be in chains like this..._ To think he would have done anything to keep her from this fate, and now he was the one who'd have to be a slave... _But not for long._

"I did this to myself when I went against Vira's direct order," Tyson said resignedly, lowering his head. "I have to stay here." He tightened his knuckles around the bars with the grip of a man who'd been wielding an axe his entire life. An axe that had been taken from him at the same time his freedom had. "Jennessa," he said quietly so none would hear him utter her true name. "Don't try anything. I don't want to see anything happen to you. Or Sly," he added self-consciously. "It's too dangerous for you here," he said softly. And he was sure she realized he didn't just mean the tent.

"But Tyson!" Jennessa moved closer to the bars, desperately, as if somehow she could wrench him free if she only found the right angle. "I'm not leaving without you." It was as simple as that. Now that she'd known him, how could she possibly live her life in freedom knowing that all the while, the one she loved was toiling under chains and whips? She couldn't be asked to do that any more than Tyson could be asked to sacrifice the people of an entire city. "I don't care what it takes. We need you," she breathed, voice shaking. "I need you," she added after a resigned pause.

His chest seared suddenly. Her words hurt him in a way an arrow never could. He was letting his friends down as well. He grew angry with himself. Didn't she get it? He couldn't save anyone. Not the citizens, not a stranger in a forest, not even his own deceptive brother. "No one needs me," he said rather bitterly. "And this isn't about us." He slipped his hands out of hers and took a staggered step back. She would have to leave him. She was young and incredible, and she would forget about him like his parents had tried to. And they were so powerful without him. They could return to Glitter and a life of adventure. He would stay with his people. This is where he belonged. He was so naive to ever try to leave in the first place.

"What..." _did I say?_ Just like that he was slipping away from her. Jennessa reached desperately after him, but a vengeful stare from the gargoyle made her retract her hand from the cell. "This isn't just, and you know it!" she called despairingly. "You did the right thing! You shouldn't be here!" Jennessa was gripping the bars of the cell, Tyson or no Tyson, and her eyes brimmed with the warnings of angry tears.

"Vira is a fair ruler," Tyson responded, much to the vexation of the cellmates who were listening. The drow snorted derisively. _The laws exist for a reason, and bend for no one. And I was foolish to challenge her._ "Leave, Jennessa," Tyson said gruffly. She needed to go, lest he cause more trouble for her than he already had. She shouldn't be seen talking to him. Any minute now the guards would have the sense to inform someone who might take action. "Please," he begged, which felt unnatural and happened exceptionally rarely. His eyes were brimming with all of the pain and emotion she was making it so difficult to swallow. _Just listen to me. Vira already doesn't trust you._

Jennessa froze, breathless. She'd never heard him talk like that before. She stiffened, hiding the love in her eyes behind a stony resolve. _I am going to get you out of this kingdom. One way or another._ Maybe if she went back to the mages' tent she could find something to help him. A scroll of teleport, a ring of blink, an invisibility potion, a wand of knock. Maybe Sly would help her make a distraction. Maybe she could deal with Vira somehow. But Jennessa was going to make certain Tyson would not rot in chains, if it was the last thing she ever did.

With one last look at Tyson that pleaded _don't give up_, Jennessa took a deep breath and turned her back on the prisoners.

Tyson slumped to the ground again when she'd left, dutifully ignoring the glares trained upon him- some from enemies who realized just who he was, and the rest from those had been woken up by his heartfelt conversation. He'd seen that look of determination before, and he worried about what Jennessa would try to do. This wasn't a small town a few days from Starhold. This was an entire kingdom of people hundreds of years older than Starhold. _Please, Jennessa. Just let me be._ He rubbed away the tears with his manacled fists before they had a chance to fall, and forced his emotions away again before he let himself fall into a restless meditative state for a couple of hours.


	14. Sorry

Tyson paid the innkeeper's wife and proceeded up the stairs, leading Jennessa by the arm, inexplicably. She couldn't believe he was still willing to touch her or even be alone with her, given what they had learned today. But more than ever, she wanted to be by his side. Her father was dead. The man who named her and raised her and gave her piggy back rides, taught her how to read, whose path she had inadvertantly followed. He was gone. All that was left in his wake was blood and unanswered questions. Jennessa would have given anything to have him here now, to explain to her what was going on and who she really was. But she'd never see him again. She'd never get to give him the stories of her adventures, never introduce him to the most wonderful man, who even now was here for her.  
Tyson seemed to be shielding his eyes from her. Jennessa didn't know what he must have thought of her now, but she had never meant to hurt him. She was losing everything, rapidly, and surely he would soon follow. Despite the large burn on his handsome face, and the fear of what she harm she might accidentally cause him, she couldn't suppress the persistant longing in the back of her head to throw herself into Tyson's arms. She needed now him more than ever.  
If Tyson's breath was somewhat shaky, his movements more jerky and unnatural, Jennessa didn't notice. _Jennessa's a succubus._ He couldn't stop thinking it, and hadn't stopped since he'd found out. Sly seemed excited by the news, and eager to explore what this meant for them. He'd run off to the bar with Krista under the guise of gathering information, but more likely it was to share this secret a few more times. But Sly hadn't slept with a demon. Was that what she was now? A monster?  
A sniff to his left as he turned the room key reminded him that demon or no, Jennessa was still half human, and a girl mourning for her father so brutally murdered in their very own home. If she could feel this pain, she couldn't be quite the wicked monster her mother turned out to be. Unless of course she was only pretending, but Jennessa was a horrible actor. Nevertheless, Tyson was careful to grip her arm guard, her sleeve, anything but her skin- just in case. She hadn't attacked him outright, nor done anything really to make him lose his trust in her, but she could easily pose a threat if he fell under an enchantment of hers. He didn't know anything about succubus magic (or magic in general, really). And he knew that was his fault for being so ignorant to the craft and knowledge growing up. Saeran and especially Sidhion or Vira would have much more to say on the matter. But Tyson, being Tyson, simply knew to be cautious of what he didn't understand, and to take it in stride.  
He let her into the room, letting her arm go to close the door and fasten the lock behind him. The room was simple and empty, like the rest of Peachvale, and he paid it no mind as he ushered her toward the bed. He avoided eye contact, but that did not mean he took his eyes off of her. He hadn't felt this unsure around her since he thought she was trying to kill him when they'd first met- the way she'd always stared at him. Now he let her sit on the dusty mattress, her eyes downcast and lost, and her entire posture sullen. He took a step back, not out of fear, but because he wasn't sure what else to do. "You should rest," he said finally, breaking the silence that had only been breached by the quick word with the innkeeper before. He flinched at how accusing his voice seemed to be, rather than the soft reassuring tone he'd been going for. Perhaps she wouldn't notice the difference, as both were laced with the characteristic nonchalance that represented Tyson Nailo. He had never been one for overt emotion.  
Jennessa felt empty and hollow, and didn't know what in the world she could do to make things better, or even okay, because certainly they would never be the same. His voice was curt. It stung her, though she hardly believed she could have felt any worse than she did now.  
She looked up at him, eyes red from tears she could hardly hold back. He didn't trust her anymore. And why should he? She could kill him with his lips alone, she thought with another awful shudder. She wondered if maybe he'd brought her up here so he could end her once and for all, before she managed to kill any innocent people. She couldn't blame him if he did plan to slay her. _What am I?_ she wondered once more. _Another monster to be vanquished?_ Another threat to Tyson's life, which she protected so fiercely?  
"Tyson..." she managed through her weak voice. "I'm so sorry."  
Tyson's eyes softened at her words. This apology. It was so heartfelt and so unwarranted. She meant it, that much was clear to him (unless his mind was under.. no). And how could she have known she was doing these things to him? She had found out at the same time as he and Sly... hadn't she? Tyson cleared his throat before speaking, much more controllably, "Did you know?" He didn't believe that she had... but he had to be sure. He had to know. And she owed him the truth.  
Jennessa shook her head, staring at him wide-eyed. "No." Could he forgive her? "I didn't know I was... draining the life out of you. I didn't know my mom was a demon. I didn't know I was more dangerous than half of the monsters we fight. I didn't know I was anything but human." Her voice was getting louder, and she couldn't stop a tear from falling. _I didn't know loving you could kill you._ Did she regret the nights they spent together? Would she have been able to stop herself from giving in to the desperate longing she felt for Tyson if she had known...? She took a breath and looked down at herself, guilty. "I never meant to hurt you..."  
Tyson shook his head. "That's enough," he interjected to stop her spilling of words. Oh, did he know what it was like to be looked at with scorn as if he was some sort of monster that didn't belong. No thanks to his brother, he'd grown enough to stop seeing himself that way, but it was the same way Jennessa was looking at herself now. Disgusted and appalled. She didn't know. She hadn't known. Why wasn't he as relieved to hear that as he thought he'd be? Because even if it hadn't been on purpose, all of it.. EVERYTHING had been a lie. He could hear Saeran's voice now- 'I TOLD you it was impossible to care for a human. Of course she's been enchanting you..'. He shook his head again. But Jennessa never realized she had been doing these things to him. He was the only man she had ever bedded. She hadn't been abusing her power. She hadn't even KNOWN. "I believe you. It isn't your fault..." _that you were born different._  
He watched that tear trail down her cheek, and all he wanted to do was make it stop. He'd sworn to protect her (and now he knew WHY). But if he didn't know how to react to her emotions when she was human, he certainly didn't know how to deal with them when she was a demon (HALF demon, he reminded himself), and he couldn't touch her, lest she drain his life away when they were both so broken. He was no wordsmith like his brother, and actions were often all he had, so if he couldn't comfort her physically he didn't know what else to do. Words would have to be enough. "You've saved my life countless times, Jennessa. I can't believe that you were trying to hurt me."  
His lips twitched up then in an ironic smirk, in spite of everything and all the chaos that their lives had become. "Besides, I'm fine." He hoped the words he'd shouted so many times in battle would calm her down. And it was true. He stood healthy and virile as ever before her, if a little battered and scuffed. _'Of course she'd want to protect her pet. Her thrall that feeds her every time she-'_ Tyson crushed Saeran's voice in his head. Or the Shield's. Whichever. They both seemed to meld into one lately anyway.  
Jennessa nodded silently. Despite her reckless actions, he was alive. She'd done enough protecting him to counteract any danger she'd put him in with her unrestrained desire. It seemed he didn't hate her. She braved a look up at him, and her eyes widened to see him, against all odds, smiling his Tyson-y smile. Her heart soared, suddenly filled with new hope. They weren't any different, even after everything. He'd survived it all somehow if a little worse for the wear, and he was still here for her. Then Jennessa smiled weakly too. Then the thought occured to her, _If you survived it before, maybe it wouldn't be so bad..._ and her eyes fell to his lips, which she wanted to kiss more than ever before now that she was desperate for comfort... and then she realized what she was doing, and cast her face into her hands again.  
"Tyson, I'm... I'm dangerous," she choked through sobs. She'd hoped one day he'd learn to love her... but now she was sure that nothing could ever love her. If a man could grow to truly have feelings for her, he wouldn't once he found out what she was. She wasn't even certain the things she felt were love anymore, and not just some twisted demonic urges. Her days of holding Tyson's hand and gently kissing him and being wrapped up in his arms were all gone. It was too risky. He'd certainly never want to touch her again.  
She seemed like she was calming down but then she was wracked with anguish again. For her father, for herself, and for what she felt she'd done to him. That it had been a spell all along. He couldn't be upset with her. It wasn't her intention to manipulate him. He'd caught many eyes before, and he couldn't ignore all the times they'd fought together. He couldn't deny her devotion.  
Even so, it was true. He couldn't refute her statement. He'd seen her incinerate men, of course she was dangerous. But this was a different sort of danger. And Tyson didn't know what the hell to do about it. He opened his mouth a few times, but what could be said? At that moment the door handle jiggled and then a knock came when it didn't give. Jennessa jumped in surprise while Tyson's ears twitched in annoyance. Only Sly would open first before knocking. Sure enough, the familiar voice came through the crack in the side.

"Hey guys, open the dooooor." Tyson simply stood and looked from the door to Jennessa, then back to the door. "It's locked," Sly added helpfully. Tyson looked at Jennessa again to see if she wanted Sly's company or not, but she didn't vehemently refuse, and Tyson thought Sly deserved to be with her as much as he did right now. They were a team, after all. They could deal with this together. So he walked to the door and opened it when Sly was halfway between knocking again. Tyson jerked his head to give Sly permission to enter, and stepped aside, sure to lock the door again behind him. He drew the line at Krista, however. Justice only knows what she would do to Jennessa knowing her true lineage. He would question if he could trust Krista, but he never really trusted her to begin with, so it was just as well. He'd keep an eye on her.  
Jennessa shrunk inward a little more with Sly around. She tried to pull herself together, and not melt in tears in front of Sly, who she doubted would be understanding.  
Sly glanced between the two of them, probably feeling a little less than welcome. "I'll get my own room, I swear. I just want to talk." Jennessa nodded with a slow, calming breath. There was a lot to talk about. She hoped he wouldn't ask her how she was feeling. And she hoped he hadn't told the entire popultation of her hometown (or what remained of it) what she really was.  
After a pause, Sly adressed the white elephant in the room. "You guys aren't going to _do it_, are you?"  
Trepidation turned to rage in Jennessa's tear-streaked face. How could he say that? Didn't he realize how insensitive it was to bring up the fact that Jennessa's desires would never again be fulfilled? "Get OUT Sly!" Jennessa rose to her feet, fists clenched, and sure enough, Sly scurried out of the room with an apologetic mutter.  
Tyson rolled his eyes at the question. But he really hadn't expected anything less. Jennessa's reaction was, of course, predictable as well. But he preferred to see her angry and yelling at Sly for being a pest than broken and lost. Somehow, he felt less at war with himself. He didn't have anything to fear about Jennessa because he was aware now. And she couldn't make him do anything, because they were friends in spite of everything. She had been present for him when his entire world literally came crashing down. And so he would be there for her. He wouldn't cast her aside. She was worth more than that. And so he settled for loosening the straps of his amor and setting it against the wall.  
Jennessa seethed for a moment before Sly shut the door again. She shouldn't have expected him to be considerate. But now it seemed Tyson was starting to relax around her again, and she saw him unarmored for the first time since he was locked up in Holimion. She hoped his trust was well-placed, and that she could control herself around him... It was tense, and awkward, and Jennessa sat back down and tried to calm herself. "I wish you could have met my dad," she said softly. "You would have liked him." It was true. He was strong and brave and jovial and would have gotten along great with Tyson. They could have drank together and shared stories, and arm wrestled and done other manly things. But Garamond was gone.  
He looked up and if he couldn't hear it in her sorrowful voice he could SEE what her dad meant to her in the sloping of her eyebrows, the tightness of her lips, and and pain in those vivid eyes. The times she had spoke of her parents, it was with the fondest smile that she spoke of her father. In truth, he had been a bit anxious to learn of the greatness of Jennessa's father. The warrior. The Firestorm. He had been worried upon meeting him that he would be judged for taking Jennessa's chastity or for not protecting her well enough or for many things that a man who loved his daughter would be concerned about. But it seemed as though his worry was in vain, for Jennessa's father was taken from her. And so young. "He sounds like a good man," Tyson managed to respond, for lack of anything better to say. Nothing like Tyson's own father. He was glad to know that someone in Jennessa's family cared a great deal for her, even if that someone had passed now. And was lying cold and dead and rotting in his home just a mile away. "We'll give him a proper burial in the morning," he promising, hoping it would console her. He knew that it would be wrong to bury Garamond in the middle of the night when they were both so distraught over these revelations. He undid a final clasp and then his plates were lined up against the wall, and he was left in the thin shirt and trousers he wore underneath. "I'm sorry," Tyson said, for the first time that night. He knew it was not his fault that Jennessa's father was dead. Nor was it his fault that her mother had been a monster. But he had refused to meet her father the last time they were in this town, when he was still alive and Jennessa had asked so hopefully. And it was indirectly his fault that she was forced to feel so guilty now. He HAD slept with her after all.  
Jennessa snorted quietly. Tyson had nothing to be sorry for. But she knew he was really trying to make her feel better and it was not lost on her. "Thanks." Jennessa nudged off her shoes and brought her knees to her chest, holding herself and watching Tyson bringing his guard down, literally. Any power she had over him wouldn't be affected by what armor he wore, but it made her heart beat a little faster to see his scarred, muscly arms unshielded. She swallowed. If only things could have been different, if they'd been able to come home unburdened, then she and Tyson could be sharing a room having a very different night together. Maybe a simple hug would be safe, but how would she know?  
Jennessa looked at him, eyes drying, and seemed to contemplate for a moment with a heavy heart. "Even with that mark on your face," she said softly, to her knees, "I still think you look handsome." It probably didn't matter to him. Especially not now. But it was worth saying all the same.  
Tyson paled. Why was she bringing that up now? He had been focusing on her, and for a moment his face had slipped his mind. But now his chest burned painfully and he swallowed thickly. Before.. everything, Tyson could push his past away. He could forget everything and focus on his life now. But now every single time he looked in a damned mirror, he would be reminded of his failure. All the people he let down, the lives who had been depending on him, and the family and friends who had finally officially cast him away. Now if he wanted to return, he couldn't. He sighed. "I can't imagine why." Why was she trying to comfort him? She had just seen her father die. _'She's trying to manipulate you,' _Shield hissed. _'Slit her thro-'_ He shoved the voice away. "I used to disdain people with this mark," he said, his voice full of bitter. _I used to think that even if I can't be like everyone else, at least I won't be that._  
Jennessa's eyes burned with a leftover anger. They never should have gone to Holimion... _That mark doesn't matter to me, Tyson._ "Why do you have that mark, Tyson?" she quietly asked. "It's a supposed to be a mark of shame, that Princess Vira hands out to those she doesn't approve of. She gave it to you because you fought for what you believed in." She looked in his eyes, for a moment not caring what he thought of her, just what he thought of himself. Tyson deserved to see himself the way she saw him. "Even if you failed, you did what was right. On you... this isn't a mark of shame," Jennessa's eyes glinted with just a hint of valor as she spoke toward the hero. "It's a medal of your courage."  
Tyson looked away. "Intentions don't-" Tyson cut himself off before he finished that. Because if intentions didn't matter, then he would be a hypocrite for telling Jennessa that he forgave her for the times she stole his life away. She hadn't intended to, and he knew that. He was silent for a minute, contemplating this. He was willing to fight to the death to save the people of Oakleaf. If he could go back now, he wouldn't have made a different decision. He would fight until his last breath for what he believed to be right. He knew that was why Vira had set him free. "Courage." He met her eyes then, and his eyes mirrored her determination. He would not give up, because even if he failed to save a life every time, there was still a chance that he'd make a difference. And that was more than enough reason. "Why are you telling me this?"  
Jennessa smiled when he broke the silence. At last, she'd gotten through to him. "I hate seeing you upset," she said gently, more reminding him than informing him. Then, more sadly, "I still care about you. Even... even if you never love me back." There it was. Quiet, subtle, tragic. But this might be the last time he ever listened to her, so there wasn't any other time to tell him... "I love you, Tyson." _You should shut up now,_ her reasonable but self-loathing conscious told her, and she quickly shut it out in favor of staring at his eyes. "Every moment... since that first kiss, and maybe even before it... I love you." _It doesn't change anything, stupid girl. He hates you for what you are. A demon._ "I don't expect anything from you. Certainly not now. But whatever I.. am... I really do care about you. It wasn't a trick, and I don't just _want_ you. I love you for who you are." She shook her head and snorted a sad, broken laugh. "You're amazing. I really hoped that... if we survived all these adventures, you and I could have been together, settled down somewhere, maybe kept some horses that you love so much." There were new tears in her eyes. She could never have him. The vision from her dreams was a warning, that even if she could somehow live as long as Tyson, if they were together, she would inevitably drain his life away. "I just hope whichever...normal girl you choose treats you as well as I would have." She'd have to watch, quietly, enviously, as he whiled his nights away with wantons and callgirls, because it was too dangerous for her to lie with the man she loved. "If you want another room, I'll understand. But I don't want you to go."  
Tyson's breath quickened as she poured her heart out to him, finally laying out the truth and baring herself. His mouth was entirely too dry now, and he didn't know how to respond. Which didn't surprise him. But he never thought about such things as love. He never thought about settling down and 'choosing a girl' as Jennessa had put it. He had always figured his life would be full of glory and adventure (less so, recently), however short it may be for his line of work. And what he and Jennessa had together had never really been.. Well, it had been an unspoken agreement. And that was all it was. Nothing else... But no, he could see that now. Clearly, it was much, much more to her. And even if it might have become something else, it didn't matter, because it was artificial. He could see that now. But even if he wouldn't reciprocate her emotion, he still cared for her. She had been his comrade, doting and unwavering in her loyalty and strength, and he couldn't think ill of her or see her gone. When she and Sly were all that had kept him sane in his return to Holimion and all the misfortune that befell him. And to think she expected him to leave her alone. Now of all times. That prompted him to speak.  
"Jennessa. If you want me to stay, then I will," he said finally. He felt guilty, because he knew he was hurting her. Even if it wasn't directly his fault, he was still the cause of it. And he was frustrated and angry and bewildered all at once, and this wasn't something he'd ever imagined himself having to deal with, but his life was anything but standard.  
He took a single step, then cursed at himself for his hesitancy and walked to the bed more confidently, sitting beside Jennessa. He could hear her shuddering breath of surprise, and almost lifted his hand to place over hers. Almost. He had to say what he needed to say, but he wasn't quite sure what that was. He spun Saeran's ring idly on his finger, and figured it was as good a place as any. "I'm not perfect. You make it sound as if I'm some dauntless hero," he stated, with no anger behind his words. He continued before she could dispute what he'd said. "I've failed a lot of people. A great deal more than I've helped. And I have more blood on my hands than most of the monsters we cross swords with. When it came down to it, I couldn't save Shadow, Verac, Verac's people, that woman in the woods, the people of Oakleaf.." The last memory was still fresh. "And the goblins. I was right next to the wagon when they-" He cut himself off at that point, because the anger in his chest threatened to overflow. "I swore I would slay every last one of them, and now I'm a hundred miles away and for all I know Holimion is falling to the forest floor." _Vira was wrong for sending me away._ He needed to calm down. "But through all of the mistakes I've made, you've been here." His fingers grasped at the air as though he could find the words he needed by catching them between his fingers. He stopped staring at his hands and looked at her tear streaked face, his pale eyes rarely unshielded. "What I'm trying to say is, in spite of.. it all, you're still a loyal friend. My friend." He turned away when her fierce gaze overwhelmed him again. "I'd be a fool to shove that away," he finished quietly.  
It wasn't exactly what Jennessa had hoped to hear when she first said it to someone, but it was a whole lot better than hearing Tyson say he never wished to see her again. What champion of goodness would ever love a creature of hell? But Tyson still wanted to be her friend. Obviously she couldn't have a romantic relationship with him - or anyone ever, Jennessa thought with a quiet sob - but against all odds, he hadn't turned her away. He was still here next to her after all. _Will I ever be able to let you go?_ Jennessa wondered, as she looked in his honest eyes. "I'm still here for you," she whispered back. Against her better judgement, Jennessa's hand twitched closer to Tyson, hoping against all hope that he would take hold of it anyway. _Take pity on the girl no one will ever love. Just hold my hand one last time..._  
"We'll still fight together. Side by side. Well... moreso I'll be right behind you," Jennessa revised with a tear-damped chuckle. _I'll just try to forget there was a moment when you might have loved me back. _"Right, Tyson?"  
Tyson smiled sadly. He decided then and there that even if Jennessa was half demon, and it went against his very core to put his trust and faith in such a creature, he didn't care. Because at this point, she was everything he had. The one stable thing in his life. "Right." He noticed her hand from the corner of his vision, but he wouldn't give her false hope, and he was worried about how skin contact might affect his decisions. And so he pulled his hand away and reached down to pull off his boots. "You should get some rest," he said lamely, but there was true concern. Not only because she must be emotionally and physically drained from their horrifying discovery today, but because he knew Jennessa needed proper rest to use her magic. And if they were going to go after her wretched fiend of a mother, she would need every spell she had.  
And just like that, her last light of hope was extuingished. All the progress they'd made no longer mattered in the slightest, and Tyson wanted just as much to be with her as he did the day they hauled him out of a bandit prison. Jennessa picked up her hand, thoroughally defeated. "that's true," she said hollowly. Maybe if she slept, when she woke up she'd find the whole awful day to be a dream, and they'd be a few miles out of Peachvale, and just an hour away from eating peach pancakes with her dad again as she told him all her new stories... She moved slowly to turn away from Tyson and reached behind her back to undo her restrictive bodice, so she could get ready for bed, and found herself struggling to reach the ties without Esther's usual help (that, and a general lack of will to do anything from slump over and cry).  
Jennessa had never been very good at hiding her emotions, and now was no different. She looked like someone had kicked her in the stomach and thrown her spell book in the dirt. And her fingers were quaking slightly as she fiddled uselessly with the fastenings on her top. Tyson sighed and reached over to loosen them for her, careful not to brush her fingers accidentally. He had tried as hard as he could to be reassuring and gentle in his words, but he just wasn't good with things like this. Never was. He moved himself to flop back across the mattress. The bed was thankfully more than big enough for two to lie and have plenty of room, and it's not like they hadn't slept in close quarters anyway nearly every single night. He knew that he would not be sleeping this night anyway, not with the thoughts that plagued his mind. But at the very least, Jennessa would be too afraid to initiate anything, so he wouldn't have to worry if he did decide to rest. _'You're just an obsession. You should have slain her when you had the chance.'_ Shield wore on his patience. He was tempted to remove his shirt and cover the offending piece of armor, but he knew enough to know that would be insensitive. Not to mention, the voice that whispered horrible things to him would never be deterred by mere laundry. "Jennessa," he called to get her attention. "I won't leave unless you want me to," he reminded. He would't tell her lies nor empty promises. But this he could promise. For now, let that be enough.  
Somehow his voice still made her heart flutter when he called her name. She glanced over her shoulder at Tyson, and it comforted her a great deal to know he'd keep her safe tonight. _but who will keep you safe from me?_ "Thank you." she said, with a little more strength in her voice. "There's no one else I'd rather have with me tonight." Then she noticed the sleeve of her loosened robe was slipping away from her shoulder, and she quickly covered up the fair skin that could cause such a problem. _At least now I know why I don't seem to be as beaten up as you or Sly. Not since our first night together, anyway._ Jennessa wondered if Tyson was even a fraction as tempted and conflicted as she was feeling. Sure, she was inexperienced, but maybe the few times Tyson had layed with her, a little bit of hellfire blood had given her an edge over other girls he'd had... Then she shook that awful thought from her head and tucked herself in under the covers. "Good night, Tyson," Jennessa said to the pillows, with false joviality. "I'll see you tomrrow." _If you don't change your mind about slitting my throat in my sleep._  
_'Now, while it's asleep!'_ Tyson let out a low breath. He was no where near succumbing to the ridiculous demands, but lately some of the suggestions sounded more enticing and rational than he'd like to admit. He didn t say anything else, for there was nothing more to say. So he punched the pillow a few times and got comfortable for the long night ahead of him. Though it wasn t truly necessary to keep watch while in town, old habits die hard.  
Jennessa was despairing, obviously, but Tyson knew that he couldn't do more than this. He wondered if it was worse to stay here but keep her at arm's length, or abandon her as she had expected of him. His mind was swelling with this new knowledge. He wondered if he ever would have grown to like Jennessa if she hadn't ensorcelled him. Or humans at all for that matter. He spent the rest of the night contemplating that and keeping watch on Jennessa's fitful sleep from the corner of his eye. Sly came in at some point in the night and curled up at the foot of the bed on his featherbed to sleep. They were a powerful team, but what if this is what it took to break them?


	15. Saeran II

When finally his sight and feeling returned, Saeran felt curiously free of pain, worry, or anxiety. He felt as if nothing was to be excited or anxious for, because nothing would ever happen again. It took a moment for him to process his surroundings. All was shining, bright, and white. The floor beneath him was hard and from the ceiling light shone down from clear magical tubing. Saeran looked down at himself, his clothes and his hands. His soiled ambassador's outfit was gone, replaced with simple, close-fitting white doublet and leggings. His hands were free of scars or blemishes. Blinking in the harsh light of his new surroundings, he looked in front of him to see, to his surprise, the Seers Over seated at a long curved table before him.  
/The gods. Am I...?/  
"Searan Na lo," Alan read out in a resounding voice. "Age one hundred and forty."  
"You had quite a run," Tina said with a playful smile. Saeran didn't understand what she had to be so jovial about.  
"Is that it, then?" he said. His voice sounded frustrated to himself. "'I had a good run'? I'm not done yet!" he shouted, voice echoing in the... where was he? Was it even a room?  
/What about my triumphant return? Bringing Tyson back home, and seeing my parents, and Sidhion, and Vira.../ He felt his chest pocket for the letter he had tucked in, but there was nothing there. Saeran fell to his knees.  
"I was almost King!" he cried out. Saeran knealt before the council of gods, unable to look up at them. His hair fell in his eyes as he spoke towards the cold, hard floor. "Everything was under control. I was so close."  
"Is that all you cared about?" Cindy asked him with disdain.  
Saeran looked up, eyes shining. "No," he said clearly.  
The room was silent.

"Let me try again."  
The Seers Over seemed to communally raise their eyebrows.  
"I was so close. I was... winning. Give me one more chance," Saeran pleaded.  
Tina interrupted him. "Don't give us that 'I'll lead an honest life' bullshit. We know you're incapable."  
Alex chuckled in accordance. The gods were all watching him with a mixture of pity and mild amusement...except for Rich. Rich was still and quiet, eyes trained on Saeran and the desperation in his face.  
"Give me one reason why you should go back to Lurreiah," he spoke. His voice was low, but commanding. The council fell silent.  
Saeran had hope in his eyes. He had one last chance, and all he had to do was speak the words that came to him, like they always did. Saeran stood up, brushed off his knees, and looked at Rich with a confident smile.

"Can you honestly tell me that it wasn't fun to watch?"

The gods sat in shocked silence for a moment or two. Then Rich smirked and looked down in front of him, touching a few knobs and buttons. "One more chance. No do overs, this time."  
Saeran laughed in relief, his signature smirk on his face for a final time. "I won't need one."  
Tina snorted derisively. Alex rolled his eyes. Steve slowly began to clap, as Saeran left the room just as suddenly as he entered it. And he was gone.


	16. Library

Tyson slouched as his legs walked the familiar steps toward the library, centered around one of the thickest and oldest Lamara trees of all. The last time he'd been here was for a research paper during his days in the academy. Actually, the only time he'd ever been here was for school work. And even now, he didn't understand the appeal. They'd been in Holimion just a couple of days, but Jennessa hadn't stopped asking about the Circadium since they arrived. As promised, he took her to the greatest library in the entire kingdom, often regarded as the greatest single accumulation of knowledge in the world. When the building was in view, he heard an intake of breath behind him and turned to watch Jennessa's lovely eyes widen in excitement and astonishment. Elf or no, Jennessa was Jennessa.

"Welcome to the Circadium," he said, feeling a little off. This wasn't really his home anymore. Was it still alright for him to welcome anyone?

Jennessa stared, in awe, at the massive library that seemed to reach up into the sky. "It's..." Words failed her. It looked just as she'd always imagined. She could hardly wait to pore over every tome she could get her hands on. "Thank you Tyson." She tore her eyes from the monumental library and searched his eyes for approval. Since their arrival, in the back of her mind had been this wonderful library and she could hardly wait another second to dive in.

He rubbed his neck, feeling sort of pleased. "Of course. You can just go in, read whatever you want." He was sure she would be here for hours at least. "I can come back when you're done." He met her eyes. She seemed to be seeking something from him. "If you want. So you don't get lost." _And so I don't have to be alone._

He reached out to touch her shoulder. She really did look like an elf. "If you need anything, I'll be around here." He could sense her excitement, so he left it at that.

He had walked away. Jennessa watched him go for a second or two, then turned and bounded for the Circadium with joy. He wouldn't miss her, and there were too many pages to read in his absence for her to miss him.

She slowed her footfalls from great excited leaps into quiet, gentle steps. Intellectuals, young and old, strode between shelves of beautifully maintained tomes. The bookshelves spiraled up into infinity, and in the center of the room was the means to reach them, a staircase that twirled upwards around a great tree that supported the whole building. Jennessa was breathtaken, but she tried to seem less excited to finally be there than she actually was.

Libraries around the world were mostly the same procedure. Within minutes Jennessa sat herself at a carved oaken table in a dainty chair, with a pile of fresh books on her side. She set her chin on her hands as she read the preface to the very first, a compilation of knight's memoirs, and gradually began swinging her feet as she lost herself in the flowing Elven text.

Eryndor had just finished studying the newest additions in Orcish modeling, and was on his way to pick out a particular copy of "Elven Prose and Poetry, an Evolution to Modern Syntax". He frowned. Where was it? He was positive it had been here an hour or so ago. The books were slightly less compressed, which meant that a book had been taken out. He glanced around and was surprised to see vibrant red hair at one of the study tables, next to a stack of tomes. Sure enough, the familiar silver leafing was poking out somewhere in the middle. But now he was more curious about the woman who currently possessed it. Sure, he paid little attention to the hundreds who passed through here on a day to day basis, but he was sure he'd have noticed someone like her, wouldn't he?

He wanted to approach her, but felt his legs reluctant to do so. _Come now, you've spoken with females before._ Normally he would just carry on and cut his losses if a book he desired were already taken… but he had an essay due and he REALLY needed to look at a diagram in chapter 8. He swallowed nervously, tucking the remainder of his scrolls under his arm, and walked over to sit across from her… She didn't even look up.

He cleared his throat. "Um, pardon me," he said softly. He hoped she wouldn't be upset with him.

Jennessa didn't process for a moment that she had company. When she realized no one was responding to him, panic prickled her shoulder blades and she looked up from her book. Any newcomer could potentially be a wielder of an Orb of True Seeing, or have a scroll of Detect Shapeshifter tucked into the folds of his clothes. Jennessa masked the mistrust in her heart when she looked up, but was relieved to see that this elf was glancing at the stack of books she'd collected. "Is something wrong?" Maybe there was a system in place she didn't know. Maybe there was simply a limit on how many tomes she could hoard at once.

Eryndor pointed toward the book, feeling a bit foolish suddenly. Perhaps he should have just written it without the reference. "Nothing really, it's just- There's only one copy of this title, and I-" he made the mistake of glancing over to her face. He definitely should have just written it without. She was young and beautiful and even a bit exotic looking, and he found himself faltering and stumbling over his words as a result. "I was hoping if you aren't using it- I mean, I'm sure you're going to, seeing as you took it from the shelf- not that you don't have every right to- I mean, I'll just be a second, and I was hoping you wouldn't mind…" his naturally scratchy voice was all but squeaking. "You looked like you were busy reading-" Then his eyes lit up with recognition, and his love for books overtook his apprehension as he smiled. "Life of a Knight. A classic."

Jennessa had tilted her head in confusion, but when he mentioned the book she had just been losing herself in, she smiled a big, shy grin. "You can go ahead and borrow whatever you need."

"Thank you. You're very kind." Eryndor bowed his head bashfully and carefully retrieved the book, opening directly to page he needed (with a featherlike touch, as he treated all the books) and pulling out a scroll and ink. He didn't want to distract her from her own reading- what if she was on a tight schedule? But he couldn't help but peer up at her from the text and know she probably had a thousand times more information to offer. Where did she get her clothing? They were clearly not of elven make. Why was her hair so red? What was she doing here? Had she been to the Circadium before? What was her favorite area of study? Her favorite book? Her favorite food- he blinked. He needed to be working.

Jennessa had a hard time enjoying the wonderful adventure tales when she could feel the stranger's eyes on her from time to time. It made her very nervous. She must have done something un-Elf-like, and now he was on to her. She ran her fingers through her hair with a reassuring sigh and tried for a fourth time to read the page she was on.

Eryndor noticed her exasperated movement- how couldn't he? He was gawking at her, he thought regretfully. "I'm sorry. I'll leave if I'm making you uncomfortable," he said, sliding the book back over the table to her and standing to pack his things, his ears fallen guiltily. He had most of what he'd needed anyhow.

Jennessa looked up from the book again, utterly perplexed. Elven social expectations were so tricky and confusing. "It's alright. You're not..." she began to whisper (it was a library after all). As he gathered his books, a small manual tumbled out and Jennessa lost track of her sentence as she realized she knew the name on the cover. "You read this?" she asked incredulously, picking up the hand book. The book was published by an astoundingly wise Gnomish engineer, one of many professors she had been lectured by in college. It was the first familiar script she'd seen in weeks.

He looked around to make sure they hadn't disturbed anyone, before taking the book gently. "Only a dozen times. He's a genius!" he whispered excitedly. He loved the insight other cultures could bring into common practices such as science, magic, and architecture. "I've learned so much from this volume alone. It's so dense, I can only imagine how much more he has to offer in person." He sighed.

Jennessa couldn't help but smile about meeting a young intellectual without the swollen ego to match. "Yeah," she agreed, cheek in her palm and feet swinging again, "He gives a pretty amazing lecture. Energetic and anecdotal as well as informative."

Eryndor dropped the book (something he'd never done) and was momentarily speechless. "You… You've seen him lecture. I cannot believe you've seen him lecture." He had never left the city, and here she was sitting across from him, acting like a lecture from his favorite author of all time was no big deal at all. "Just who are you?"

Her smile slipped. "Elawyn," she said a little too quickly. "Elawyn Kalinia." She picked up the book and handed it to him again, cheeks gaining some color. She had to avoid drawing attention to herself more than her hair already did. "I've been traveling."

"I could have guessed that… Miss Kalinia. That sounds familiar, but I can't place it." He bowed politely. "My name is Eryndor. There is so much I'd love to ask you. That I'd be honored to, I mean," he amended quickly, packing away his book more securely. "But you're probably quite busy..?"

Jennessa silently thanked Tina he didn't recognize the name. It might cause another outburst. She opened her mouth to speak but he was already bowing to her. Hastily she returned the bow. "You want to... talk?" she asked for confirmation, glancing at the pile of books she would have to postpone. Eryndor. It wasn't often she had someone to talk to about refined things, like arithmancy and engineering. And memoirs. Those weren't things Tyson had interest in, or Verrik any knowledge at all. And Sly was, well, Sly. "Not busy. It can wait." They'd be in Holimion for plenty of time, unless the war ended tonight.

His face lit up in a grin. "Really? Marvelous- there's a landing upstairs where we can talk more freely. Or we could go somewhere else.." He said the last part somewhat hopefully. Was she married? He didn't see a necklace. She was clearly very intelligent, and if it was clear enough by looking into her eyes, the stack of books were a dead giveaway. The sheer diversity showed nothing more than a thirst for knowledge that rivaled his own, and he was privileged to have noticed her.

Jennessa tucked Life of a Knight away with her own books. "Like where?" she asked, blinking innocently. She remembered Tyson would be coming back to help her find her way. She couldn't stray too far, or he might worry.

"Well that depends. Where would you like to go? There are the Erudiel gardens, the apothecary, the College, the market, the Highview… I-" he was going to mention his own study, but that was much too forward. He said softly. "Really, there are dozens of places Holimion has to offer. Is there anywhere you've read about that you'd like to visit? I could give you a tour in exchange for your time."

She was floored. No one had asked her, "Where would you like to go, Jennessa?" even though they had arrived in this magnificent city and all she wanted was to see it all. She finally made it to the Circadium after so much pestering (and it was perfect) and now Eryndor offered to take her anywhere she desired.

'I'll be around here' Tyson had said. If she went too far, she might lose him, and she would hate for him to be bitter. It might be best to stay put, but oh how she wanted to see the gardens and the Academy and the apothecary. She wasn't even sure exactly what the Highview was. "Is the apothecary close?" Jennessa asked timidly.

"Naturally, the shop isn't far from here. For the sake of convenience. She comes to the Circadium all the time," explained Eryndor, so excited to share his world with someone else. "Are you borrowing these?" he motioned to her books. "I can carry them for you if you like," he suggested. "Or I can help you put them back- or you can yourself! It's just an offer…" he added meekly.

Jennessa scanned the pile of books she yearned to read. They were heavy, and the shelves she pilfered them from were so tall. "I think I can manage." she said with little confidence, and lifted the pile with difficulty. "Maybe just this one," she muttered, giving up on the stack and removing the thick tome of an epic poem to carry with her.

Eryndor didn't want to insist, but he felt a pang of sadness for the stack she was leaving behind. "I'm sorry for interrupting your reading like this." But oh how it was worth it. She had agreed to walk with him, and he was in better spirits than he'd been all week. He led her out of the library and to a simple path. "So, Miss Kalinia," _where to start?_ "Please tell me more about the lectures. What college? What city?" These were the kinds of things that weren't readily available. The only way to find out current information was my word of mouth. And Holimion didn't get many visitors anyhow. They had so much knowledge, but Eryndor often considered his home city one of the most isolated in the world.

Jennessa relayed the rehearsed backstory she had prepared to explain her unusual dress and dialect. "I come from far west. I grew up among humans since I was a little girl, and studied in the city of Starhold. For wizardry." The path to the apothecary was mostly narrow wooden bridges, but Jennessa was growing used to the heights. She watched her own feet carefully instead of looking in Eryndor's eyes as she told her almost-truths.

"It's quite a good place to study. For a human town, that is." she forced herself to finish.

"Wow," Eryndor breathed. "You're a wizard, aren't you?" Of course she was. Not everyone was magically challenged as he. "I've never seen a human. Well, I've seen sketches of course."

"Yes, I am. A wizard, I mean," Jennessa finished quickly. She turned away for a moment, then was composed again as she looked back at Eryndor. "They don't look so different from elves, really. Though they eat a lot of odd things."

"Yes, I've read about them! I hear they believe that men are superior to women? And they are nowhere near as intelligent or sentient as the elves. They're brutish and start wars with one another, and they slaughter forests just to feast on the creatures that live within." Eryndor shuddered. "I can't imagine wanting to eat an animal." He peered at Elawyn. "But you've lived with them! Tell me, what are they like? Did humans manage to craft this lovely robe?" His mouth was having a hard time keeping up with his brain as he eagerly requested new information.

Jennessa's teeth clenched at the way he spoke about humans. Her instincts were to simply blast him away for disrespecting her like that, but she maintained control. She had to. "Some humans are worse than others. Just like us." She straightened her posture and quietly took a deep, calming breath. "Many are caring and thoughtful and clever. They are definitely resourceful. I mean, they have to be, living as short as they do."

"Really?" Eryndor was honestly surprised. The books certainly didn't state anything like that. Why would they use humans as slaves if they were like elves? But he supposed that Elawyn had actually lived with them, and she was a lot more credible. He hoped he could venture out and meet other races one day. Maybe he could become a traveler like her. "Could you tell me more about your travels? What have you seen?" She must have seen a lifetime of things. "The apothecary is just around here." He pointed at a building.

"Slow down!" Jennessa laughed. "You're so enthusiastic. Please, just... take a deep breath. I'll tell you whatever you like, just give me time." She was extremely flattered to have someone actually show so much interest in her, and truthfully she understood his inquisitive nature completely. "And by the way, call me Elawyn." He kept calling her by her adopted surname, which could garnish more attention than it was worth.

"You're right, I apologize Miss... Elawyn." Eryndor hid his red face. "Erm.. welcome." He opened the door for her to let her in. "If I get overzealous, please remind me." He took a deep breath like she suggested, running a hand through his short, stuck-up hair. "And if you have any questions for me, feel free to ask. I wouldn't want this to be one sided." He smelled the familiar musty air of magics and potions and herbs. He visited often to speak to the owner and do research, and it was, to him, a home away from home. His eyes trailed over the various potions set to the left of the front entrance, which chimed mysteriously upon their entering. "Oh, to brew.." he said softly.

"...and chase what magick may miss," Jennessa finished with a small smile as she walked past him inside. She recognized it as the opening line of an old folk rhyme. "That's a good one." Jennessa glanced around the shop and noted how it reminded her of home. Shelves were lined with miscellaneous vials of bright syrupy liquid, some glowing and some bubbling. Potted ferns and herb gardens flourished behind the counter. It was wonderful. She wandered in and set her bag against a table with two chairs at it.

She picked up on that… Eryndor looked at her amazedly. "You are incredible," he said without thinking. "I would love the opportunity to get to know you better." She was so real. His parents often wondered what type of person it took to get him OUT of the world of books known as the Circadium, and apparently this was it.

Jennessa whipped around and locked eyes with Eryndor. The things he said were just so... sweet. Suddenly, there was a sound from the back, an "oof!" and the sound of glass hitting something. An older elven woman stepped out, slightly flustered.

"Eryndor, is that you?" She grinned and ran out to encompass him in a big hug, kissing his cheek. "Oh, I haven't seen you since last week! And you're turning into such a strapping young man," she said, touching his face despite the "stop's" he was requesting to no avail. She turned suddenly, and her lips curved up knowingly. "Oh, and who is this? You've brought a girl for me to meet. What odd hair.."

"Minrariel!" he hissed. Then he cleared his throat. "Miss Elawyn, meet Minrariel. She's like an aunt to me-" ("Yeah, your crazy aunt-") "Hush." He was exasperated, perhaps, but he couldn't fight the silly smile.

Jennessa broke her eye contact with Eryndor and looked away quickly, blushing. "Um, hello." Jennessa bowed gracefully to the elder (who deserved respect, unquestioningly).

Minrariel's sharp eyes looked over Jennessa's form once, twice suspiciously. She pursed her lips, and was about so say something, but then she thought better of it and said, "No need to act so formally, my dear. Welcome to Minrariel's Herbs and Potions." And her face melted into an easy smile, with no trace of the funny look she'd had a second ago. "A guest of Eryn's is friend of we." At that statement, a strange cat with oddly long ears and bright green eyes hopped up onto Minrariel's shoulder.

Jennessa breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "It's nice to meet you." Jennessa jumped slightly when the creature popped out of nowhere onto the old elf's shoulder, then gasped and approached the cat with wide eyes. She'd never seen an Elven variety domestic cat in the flesh. It was ADORABLE. Jennessa seemed to forget that people were present and approached the kitten with a huge smile, cooing at it in what seemed to be a couple of different languages all at once.

"This is Aksyl," Eryndor said warmly. Aksyl smelled Jennessa's face, and batted at her hair. Minrariel chuckled and offered to let Jennessa hold her cat. "You know a lot of languages, young lady." She pinched Eryndor's ear affectionately. "Just like this one." ("Minrariel!")

"Don't be shy, go ahead and sit, both of you. I'll bring you something I just brewed up." Eryndor quickly pulled out a chair for Jennessa, and Minrariel wandered into the next room.

Eryndor laughed melodically. "I really enjoy cats too. Aksyl here can make anyone fall in love with him."

Jennessa held the lovely purring creature in her thin arms, responding to it in a nonsensical series of high-pitched noises. "He's so cute!" she squealed, sitting in the chair without really looking. "You're just da besht cat EVAR" she mumbled as Aksyl rolled all over her lap.

Eryndor looked at Aksyl enviously, who shot back a smug glance. He moved over to sit across from her. "If you have any questions for me, you're welcome to ask. And Minrariel here knows about a hundred times as much as I do," he said, leaning his chin on his palm.

Almost immediately, Minrariel was setting thick beakers of something incredibly bubbly in front of them. The outside of the glass was fuzzy with condensation, and the liquid itself was a bright orange. "Talking about an old woman behind her back?"

"You're in your six hundreds." Eryndor rolled his eyes.

"And my hearing is sharp as ever," she warned jokingly.

"This is something new I'm trying out. I'd love for you to test it before I start selling it for free. Seeing as you bothered to stop by and visit me on your date," Minrariel said mischievously.

_Date?_ Jennessa looked up from the kitten in her lap suddenly. Was she on a date? She didn't really know what one was supposed to be like. Was walking through the park with Tyson a date? She recalled the lovely wine they drank and the time Tyson tried to wrestle a fish, and the wonderful kiss on that cold night. _What is he going to think if I'm on a date? I was supposed to just stay in the library and not get lost, and now I'm having drinks with another elf._ Her heart was pounding from nerves, and she looked at Eryndor's shy smile with a crippling feeling of guilt. She quickly looked away, at the beaker in front of her.

Alchemical procedure was to never drink from the laboratory equipment, but this seemed like a place that did not always adhere to the rules. Jennessa distracted herself from the predicament at hand to pick up the bubbly stuff and take a sip.

Eryndor sputtered on his own drink. "M-Minrariel, please don't misunderstand. Miss Elawyn and I just met in the library." He was sure her heart had already been won.

Minrariel erupted into a cackle. "You'll have to forgive my wishful thinking, darling. A man your age should really be looking for love. Not toiling over books," she calmed at the last part, and seemed to look at some of the bookcases lining her wall with regret. But then Aksyl clawed at her feet, and she perked up as she went to pour cat food into the lower half of some ferocious creature's skeletal jaw.

Eryndor looked anywhere but Elawyn's eyes. "I'm very sorry. She knows we aren't… I can take you back if you'd like," he said warily. Why would she be interested in him anyway? Who would want to date a skinny college bookworm.

"We aren't?" Jennessa was relieved, but thought it would be rude to appear so. He wasn't undesirable, by any extent. In fact, Eryndor was smart and sweet and interested in the same things as her and it was a really nice change from her strong and silent comrades. Now that he had plainly explained it was not a date, she could sit and talk with him in comfort and security, knowing this was not an infraction on whatever her relationship with Tyson was. "It's ok. Don't worry about it." she said with a smile. "And for the record, there is nothing wrong with toiling over books."

Eryndor furrowed his brows and his heart leapt. Did she want to be? He shook his head. "I agree! If I only have eight hundred years left on this world, I'd like to spend them learning everything this world has to offer," he said with a faraway look. "My parents used to take my books or make me go outside when they thought I was reading too much. I think they thought I would start talking to other kids my age. I just went to the library," he grinned. "Or here. Minrariel may joke a lot, but she's never kept me from a good book. She used to let me hide them here, just so they'd be safe." His eyes glittered happily at the memories. "But my parents gave up when I turned a hundred."

"Reading 'too much'?" Jennessa laughed. She took another sip of the strange bubbly thing in front of her, actually tasting it this time. It was fruity and subtly sweet, but the bubbles sort of burned the roof of her mouth. "I'm sorry your parents didn't understand. I know what that's like." Jennessa realized what she had said, and was thankful Eryndor didn't know of her fake history. "Adoptive parents, I mean. The humans I lived with. Generations of them. They never understood." _Good recovery._ she thought with another sip. Eryndor reminded her of herself not long ago. "You should travel. Adventure." she said suddenly.

Eryndor hummed. Yes, that made sense. Humans didn't have appreciation for literature, did they? "E… excuse me?" This was HIM she was talking about, right? He who, for all his books and knowledge, had no way to survive on his own. How would he defend himself? Where would he go? Then he stopped. No, he knew exactly where he'd go. He'd visit the orcs, and the Inu, and even the humans. See all of their civilizations in person. He would trace the very expeditions that he'd read about in so much detail. He would follow up on legends and mysteries, and take careful notes, and perhaps even publish his own findings one day. He would learn about cultures, and magics, and potions, and everything the rest of the world could teach him that the elves couldn't here in Holimion.

"It's dangerous out there, but it's absolutely worth it," Jennessa said with a daydreamy sigh. "Trust me. There are not enough words in all the language of all the world to describe all the sights and sounds of the world. And I've only just begun. I've met dragons and ghosts and bandits and kings. I've lost friends, but I've explored caves and found treasure and seen mountainsides of flowers and camped under the stars."

Eryndor was awestruck. "Remarkable... Tell me one of your tales," he begged. A firsthand account. Ghosts? Dragons? He knew such things existed, and yet. He was momentarily set back. She was very much out of his league. She'd seen worlds more than he ever would. But oh, the things she could teach him. A century's worth of adventure. He paid no mind to how childish he must have appeared, to be so excited about a simple story. He was beyond self-consciousness.

So Jennessa told him about the dungeon in which she and her friends recovered the real plate of Urc val Don, with a few minor editions. She told him of her friends, and some of the clever things she'd done with magic.

"Sly thought it would be better to just attack him from the dark, but I KNEW I could get him to tell me exactly where to go to rescue the ambassador. All it took was a simple enchantment." she said with a healthy dose of pride.

"Wow," he breathed. "The dwarves can reproduce again. And your strategies are brilliant." Her friends. Of course she didn't travel alone. She lived and fought her way through life. He couldn't help but admire everything about her. He paid attention avidly, refusing to let even one word slip by. "Your party, they're here in Holimion with you? And the ambassador too, of course."

"Of course," Jennessa said as she sipped her last bit of the apothecary's drink. She was happy as can be.

He wondered if he could meet them. But of course, this was supposed to be a simple conversation. Some beverages, and an exchange of information. He shouldn't ask to see her again.. should he?

"I don't know how long you all are planning on staying here. I imagine until after the war. You should take a trip to the surface to visit Holimion's hot springs. There are dozens, all communal, and they're the best in the worl- Well, actually I couldn't say that for sure. That's just what I've heard. But I find them lovely," he added. "We have baths up here, but nothing like the springs. The water actually contains-" he stopped. "Or have you read about them already?" Maybe he was being redundant. What if she'd already visited them? What if she didn't like baths? Well, she seemed quite hygienic. And gorgeous. And- wait. He looked down shyly. _Don't stare. Stupid stupid. What if she thinks you're suggesting she need to bathe?_

Jennessa shook her head. "Tell me more," she demanded, eyes bright. "I'll bring everyone."

"Well, it has healing properties," Eryndor's eyes sparkled as it was now his turn to bestow knowledge. "The water, I mean. And it's full of minerals, of course. There's a rumor that says if you bathe in it for an hour a day, you won't ever have to meditate." He blushed. "I doubt it's true though.."

He pulled out a piece of parchment, and sketched a crude map of Holimion. "You can find the access shafts here," he said, circling an area. "They're specifically to the springs, so you won't have to trudge around in the woods. "I visit them about once a week. It's a great way to wind down after my studies."

Jennessa nodded. The legend was silly, but it wouldn't help her avoid sleep anyway. She took the parchment from Eryndor, brushing his hands without thinking. "Okay. I think I can find my way." Eryndor had unwittingly given her another chance to get Tyson without a shirt on. He'd love to unwind in the hot springs if she could convince him to come with her. Jennessa looked up at Eryndor with a big smile. "Thank you. I daresay we'll be there tonight."

Eryndor's cheeks flamed as her fingers brushed his, and his voice shook. "M-maybe I'll see y-you there." Her smile seemed to light up the entire room. He smiled timidly in response. "I was planning on going tonight either way, so…" He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Why did it still feel like she was touching his hands?

What happened to him? Jennessa's smile slid away. Her new friend suddenly became extremely shifty and uncomfortable. "What's wrong?" she asked with concern. Should she also be worried? Were the hot springs subject to raids, being on the surface? If there was an attack, she realized Eryndor wouldn't stand a chance. How could she suggest he become an adventurer without the means to take care of himself in combat? Foolish sentimental girl. _Don't be scared. I'll protect you._

"I'm alright," he dismissed. "It's just odd for me to be talking for so long. I'm sure I've spoken more words this morning than I have in the past two weeks. This is.. new. But it's nice too. You're nice, I mean." He looked at his empty glass and out the window. "You said you had someone waiting for you, right?"

Jennessa jumped from her seat. What if Tyson was looking for her at the library already? "I should go back to the Circadium." she said, sort of in agreement. She threw her bag on and flashed Eryndor a quick smile. "But thank you! For saying I'm nice. And talking. And listening." she said quickly.

He leapt to his feet as well, in reaction, though he wasn't in a hurry to be anyway. "Not at all. Can you find your way from here?" She was leaving him… and they'd only just met.

"Maybe..." _Nope._ Bringing him along would be a good idea. She'd find the way, and she could introduce him to Tyson, and Eryndor could explain that they were most definitely not on a date. "Although, I'm not sure where he'll be. I might like company."

_He?_ "Absolutely. Let me just.." Eryndor gathered up his books and ran into the other room to bid Minrariel goodbye. Then he came and opened the door to allow her through. The bell chimed again. "I can help you look for your friend, too, if you'd like." It wouldn't do to just leave her at the library, right?

"You've done enough for me already," Jennessa said bashfully. She wouldn't have known of the apothecary, or the hot springs, or have simply felt so special if not for Eryndor. "I can wait inside." Tyson would certainly be able to find her. Her steps were brisk, but she paused to make sure he was coming.

Hurrying to keep up with his lovely acquaintance, Eryndor nodded. "Alright." He wouldn't force his presence on her. "Thank you for having conversation with me all the same, Miss Elawyn. You are fantastic company," he said, with a soft sweet sort of smile. He wished that they had been on a date. He wanted to see her again, but he didn't want to ruin everything by posing such an awkward and forward question. With what little (no) experience he had, he didn't know what would offend her or make her uncomfortable. So he silently dug his hands into his pockets and deflated as he retraced their steps to the first and last place he would likely ever lay eyes upon this brilliant beauty. They seemed to near the Circadium in no time at all.

It was evening by this point, and many elves were just returning from their meditations, yawning and stretching and bustling around.

Jennessa wasn't sure she'd get used to the elves' odd sleep schedule. She was feeling sleepy, but there was too much to look forward to tonight. She could squeeze in more reading before Tyson appeared, and then she would bring him to the hot springs. It would be a good evening, for certain.

Jennessa turned to Eryndor with an enthusiastic smile. "You're so sweet, Eryndor. Thanks for showing me around." She meant it. He was so unlike the worst of the people she'd met, even among elves. He was gentle and considerate and smart and kind. For a fleeting moment she worried that she wouldn't get the chance to see him again, to discuss literature and science and magic. He understood those things. But Jennessa thought brightly that she'd always find him back here eventually. "I'll see you here again, right?"

_I'll come every day._ "A-Absolutely," he managed, surprised. She'd called him sweet. And SHE wanted to see HIM? "I suppose this is goodbye. Feel free to look for me here, or at the apothecary, or at the college. I'm always around. I'd love to give you a proper tour of Holimion." He took a small step of retreat and looked down at the ground, to allow her passage to leave. _Please don't disappear from my life now that I've found you._

Jennessa nodded with enthusiasm. "I'll take you up on that, now!" she said with a playful smile, then bowed to her new friend. "And I'll see you at the hot springs. Bye!" She glanced around in the dusk light for the tall head of curly hair she'd grown so fond of, then turned to enter the Circadium.

Eryndor hastily bowed before he was left standing in front of the Circadium by himself. A sigh which turned into a yawn told him he should head home and meditate. And he still had that essay to finish. And so he trudged away in the opposite direction his heart longed to be.

Tyson's eyes followed this stranger away until he was out of sight and he felt an odd pang of what must have been paladin protectiveness, and so he strode over to where Jennessa had just let herself into the great library. He caught her arm lightly. "Who was that?"

And there he was. Jennessa couldn't help but smile at Tyson for greeting her with a touch, even a firm one. In the short hours since he'd left, she realized she did miss him. And it seemed as though he missed her, too. Then Jennessa realized he asked her a question, and gathered her thoughts from his dreamy complexion in order to respond. "Do you mean Eryndor?" Had they met already? She wanted to introduce Tyson herself. "I met him in here. He showed me the apothecary! We just talked."

"You went off with him?" What was she thinking? He could be working for Vira, trying to find out more about the 'Kalinia heir', or he could be one of the many mages in the city who were sure to notice something a little off about Jennessa. If she was found out, she would be enslaved or worse. This wasn't Starhold. It wasn't safe to make friends and go off exploring. And that is exactly what Tyson wanted to tell to Jennessa, but when he looked into her bright and innocent blue eyes, he found himself tongue-tied, as the last thing he wanted to do was crush her spirits. Instead, he comforted himself with the notion that if it was indeed just a random civilian, she would likely never see him again in the large city. He held her arm reassuringly and said finally. "You should have brought me." The library was one of few places Tyson was comfortable with leaving her. And that was only with him standing just outside the entrance.

Jennessa couldn't understand Tyson's concern. Eryndor was absolutely harmless, and even more so, Jennessa knew there was something about him that she could trust. He was one of her own sort; bookish and intellectual and excited about the world. "I'm sorry," Jennessa said with some confusion. _Bring you with me? Certainly not._ Tyson wouldn't have understood. He didn't share the love of dusty tomes that she longed for. He had no patience for poetry, and he certainly didn't care which engineers Jennessa used to receive lectures from. It was nice to be indulged, for once. "I don't think you would have liked it anyway. Why didn't you ever tell me about the hot springs?" she redirected. "Did you know there are dozens on the surface? Supposedly they have healing properties." Jennessa clawed through her bag with her free arm to find the map Eryndor made for her.

"I- of course I know of them. My family visits regularly. I didn't think.. you'd want to go." _Not after the last time._ It hadn't occurred to him that it was something Jennessa enjoyed. She seemed sort of upset when they visited the one in Glitter. He just assumed that she disliked hot baths. It's not like he couldn't heal a lot better than some spring in the forest. His eyes followed Jennessa's hands curiously.

"It sounds nice. I'd like to go." Between her spellbook and Life of a Knight she found the parchment with a complicated map scribbled on it. She folded it up and looked hopefully up at Tyson. "W-Would you come with me?" She had a vision in her mind of sitting happily under Tyson's arm in the warm water under the moonlight, pressed against his warm, bare chest... Then she recalled Eryndor was planning to be there that night as well. "We can bring Sly and everyone, too," she finished in a mutter, looking away.

Tyson weighed the options in his head. He supposed it wasn't THAT dangerous. And perhaps it would be nice to relax and let the accumulated sweat and grime from so many battles wash away. And he'd be darned if Jennessa begging him with her eyes like that didn't make it difficult for him to want to say no. "I'll mention it to Sly and Verrik." He noticed her fold up some paper. It must have been some library college thing.

_That's a yes!_ Jennessa grinned at Tyson. "Okay! Great. I'll see you there. Oh... I'll need a bathing suit, won't I?" An excuse to visit the market. Fantastic. She was obviously excited. She resisted the urge to step up and give Tyson a big kiss on the cheek.

She was leaving? He hadn't realized they would be meeting there. "If you want to wear one," Tyson responded. Naturally, they were optional. But it was a public bath. He'd prefer it if she wore one. "Do you need me to show you where to buy one?" He was glad to see Jennessa looking so enthused. At least someone was enjoying their stay here.

Jennessa nodded exuberantly. "Please do." _Shopping!_ an excited voice in her head sounded. "I really don't know what would be best. I could use your help." She let the map slip back into her bag and let her hand hang available. _Please, please please take hold of it,_ she thought to herself, looking up at Tyson and trying to contain her over-the-top emotions. "Lead the way."

Tyson internally sighed with relief. He didn't know what he would do if he didn't have her to entertain. He also enjoyed being the one that she asked for help. "Alright. I know a good shop," he said. She could have one fitted to her. She was looking into his eyes and feeling self-conscious, he turned and started walking. "It's not too far away."

Jennessa hurried after him, slightly disappointed but tireless. "Thank you." She walked with him, humming quietly. As the dusk settled, little floating sparks of light made themselves seen along the path they walked. "What should I expect?" Jennessa asked quietly, mostly to break the silence.

"From the hot springs?" Tyson questioned. With all that he'd done to try and forget this place, it felt as if he'd never left to begin with. Everything was exactly the same, down to the flecks of magic in the air that tickled his nose annoyingly.

"Well, the market." She moved a little closer, hand still hanging down begging for company. "I don't know how to buy things here. Do you barter? Is it loud?" Walking with him was almost like being back in the province of Starhold, except they'd walk on grassy fields or cobblestone streets, not wooden bridges hundreds of feet above the ground.

"The market is loud, yes. But not like in Starhold. Don't worry about bartering. And we won't be purchasing from the streets." Already, the sound of many voices could be heard from somewhere below them, and around a corner, the edge of the marketplace was just visible. Many peoples walking to and fro, buying and selling hand-made or grown items from Holimion itself. Everything was of elven make. Everything. The market was reminiscent of a festival, in that there were bright colors and warms foods and lanterns all about, but this was simply how it was. Bright and full of life and people.

The light of the market glowed in Jennessa's giant eyes. "Wow," she breathed. She started to walk ahead of Tyson, mesmerized by the energy and beauty of the bustling market. "Where is it? Can we go?"

Tyson took Jennessa's elbow. "The tailor's shop is this direction." He led her down an elegant staircase to a row of classier stalls and some buildings. It was away from the main crowd of people, and the entire area seemed to radiate sophistication. The building they stopped in front of was narrow with a tall around roof, covered in delicately stained wood. The door looked old-fashioned, but very light and practical all the same. The lanterns here glowed purple, and a strange white-flowered plant grew to curl around the light and cover much of the walls. Tyson waltzed forward to open the door for Jennessa.

Jennessa felt breathless as she was guided by Tyson through the overwhelming sights and sounds of the market. It was so lively for being so late. She wanted to take in all of it at once, but as soon as she locked on to something, Tyson had pulled her away again. Which she didn't mind too much. "Here?" She was finally allowed to look around, at this lovely little store. Tyson was being charming again, and she could have swooned. "Thank you, sir." she said sweetly as she walked in. She recalled dimly how many times doors had been opened for her today before she looked around the tailor shop. It was classier than most places she could afford to dress at, for certain.

"I'll be with you in just a second-" came a tired-sounding voice. A scraggy elf was on a stool pinning a bodice to a woman who seemed to be having trouble keeping still for him. He glanced over his shoulder, and then his eyes widened comically behind his spectacles as he nearly spilled his pins before neatly depositing them into his apron pocket. "I do say.. Little Tyson, is that you?"

Tyson flushed and he scratched his neck awkwardly. "Duskmere."

The man jumped down and hurried over to where Tyson and Jennessa now stood. "Oh my, you look… different," he said, taking in the many scars and muscles that had not been present since he'd last seen the paladin. Then his attention turned toward Jennessa, and his fingers twitched toward his measure tape as his eyes roved over her thin form. "Can I help you? Do you need your measurements taken? Are you dressing for a formal occasion? We just received a shipment of silk from Mierta-"

"Miss Elawyn would like a bathing suit."

"Little Tyson?" Jennessa mouthed with a grin. Then she cleared her throat. It seemed right to let him do the talking, so she let her attention wander the store. There were fabrics she'd never seen in the flesh before. Reams of beautiful woven linen and something in the corner she could swear was dragonscale. A familiar pang hit her as she worried that she wouldn't be able to afford to wear such beautiful clothes, because they were for the nice rich people and not farm girls like her. Then she recalled that not only was her mother far away and unable to restrict her desires, but also that here, she could pretend to be entitled by blood and no one would be any the wiser. And she had the change purse of an adventurer.

The woman across the store was making exasperated sounds, as if Duskmere's time was hers and hers alone to waste. But Tyson and Duskmere had no problem ignoring her. The skinny elf looked at Jennessa and mumbled to himself. Then he looked up kindly. "Would you mind if I took a few measurements, Miss Elawyn?" He took out his tape and approached her.

Tyson found himself a seat in an ivory chair across the room. The woman whose arms were out like a stiffened doll turned with a sour look on her face to say something when he was near, and upon the crest on his shirt, she froze mid-word and closed her mouth, turning away.

"Go right ahead," Jennessa said kindly, while inside she reveled. She'd never actually been treated this well, or really had anything custom fit. She stood up straight and stiffened her borrowed body, flashing her eyes happily at Tyson. _This could not have happened without you._

Tyson averted his eyes from the warm expression upon his friend's face, offering some privacy while her body was measured and gentle but firm fingers flitted this way and that. And then she was done, and Duskmere hurried over to his back room, digging through shelves as he called out. "Any preferences, Miss Elawyn? In color, fabric?"

Jennessa let herself relax when the scraggly tailor scurried away. Tyson seemed uptight, and it made her nervous. "...blue?" she managed to timidly request of the tailor. She had no idea what to expect, but was excited for her first Elven outfit.

More mumbles, and then Duskmere returned with a lovely satiny blue suit, which he held up to Jennessa's figure, making a few marks with pins, and moving to the side of the room to modify with lightning fast and flawless fingers. In a few minutes, he hummed suddenly and lifted his work to Jennessa. "Would you care to try this on in the back room?"

Jennessa gingerly took the garment with an affirmative hum. It was wonderful, and just for her. She glanced at Tyson before heading to the back room Duskmere had motioned to. "Yes. I'll just be a moment." And she slipped away.

It fit her very closely, and Jennessa found herself sort of bashful about the amount of skin revealed. It was almost as bold as wearing no clothes at all. It was a wonderful shimmery fabric that looked so right on her, bringing out the fire in her hair. As Jennessa analyzed herself, feathers ruffled by the small window above her.

"Girl, what are you doing?" Esther cooed with concern.

Jennessa started, then continued to look in the mirror with a little color in her cheeks. "I'm getting a bathing suit so I can go to the hot springs, of course."

"Well duh. But I mean these boys," Esther said forwardly. "What is your intention tonight?...You can't lead them on, you know."

"Whaat?" Jennessa asked incredulously. "Esther, you don't know what you're talking about."

"Yeah, I'm a bird. I can see the mischief you're pulling." Esther said with a healthy dose of sass. "That nerdy kid has it bad. So cut him loose or ditch fairy boy."

Jennessa stood on her tip toes to address the raven in the window firmly. "Eryndor is my friend! I can have a friend. Stop telling me your nonsense. Does this suit look okay? Oh, it doesn't matter. Shoo." She batted at the bird, who ruffled himself indignantly and glided away without a word. Jennessa could feel the gruffness coming off of Esther but she ignored it. Eryndor plainly explained that it was not a date. She should have no reason to face any harsh words. Especially from the bird.

Jennessa emerged from the changing room finally, cheeks a bit flushed. Her posture was shy, but she finally brought herself to reveal the swimsuit on her body with the reasoning that it wasn't really HER body. She looked nowhere but to Tyson for approval.

Tyson swore he picked up conversation in the back, but when Jennessa walked out, his mouth went dry and his cognitive functions all but ceased momentarily. "Wow.." he said quietly. But then he remembered himself, and he stood and cleared his throat, walking to join Duskmere and Jennessa.

"Yes, yes. This should do quite nicely," Duskmere said approvingly, unable to keep his hands from tugging different areas of the suit for quality. At a glance from Tyson, he fluidly stepped back. "How about you, Tyson? I can re-measure you and find you something as well." Tyson shook his head, as Duskmere expected him to. He turned back to the glittering eyes of the woman Tyson has brought in, smiling charmingly. "May I get you anything else, miss? I have some lovely collared dresses, dinner wear, perhaps a custom request?" Tyson's eyes wandered to Jennessa's as well.

The stars in Tyson's eyes were more than enough approval. "This is enough... for now," she finished with a grin. "I'll just, uh, change back. And then pay. Thank you so much." She hurried back into the changing room, much more confident about the suit. Tonight would be great.

Duskmere chortled. "I wouldn't worry about the tab, miss. The Naïlos have a contract with me. Consider your suit complimentary." Tyson rolled his eyes. Duskmere for 'I'll bill the family later'. He chatted idly with the dresser whilst he waited for Jennessa to come back out, which was mainly short simple responses to questions asked by Duskmere about life since the last time they'd encountered one another.

"Aww. Thank you!" Jennessa called from inside the booth, before returning in her old dress and robe once more. She looked pleased. "I'm ready to go when you are, Tyson." she said with a smile.

Tyson tossed a few gold pieces on the workbench as a tip, also a Naïlo standard (to which the impatient elven woman gawked at in disbelief), and held the door for his acquaintance. Duskmere waved them off, his never-still fingers clenching and unclenching in their wake before he went back to his other customer.

"Would you like to head to the springs now?" Tyson questioned. It was dark. "Or is there something else first?"

"I think I'm ready." she said brightly. _There's nowhere I'd rather be._ is what she meant. She wondered if he would take her through the chutes Eryndor mentioned, or along the surface. "You're an excellent guide," Jennessa said for maybe the dozenth time.

Tyson's ears reddened and fell slightly at the praise. "You tend to learn a lot in a hundred and twenty years of living in the same city… I'll need to stop at my family's estate." To grab his own 'proper' bathing suit. "We have our own access to the springs. Unless you wanted to use the public ones," he added.

Jennessa would have agreed, but she knew Eryndor wouldn't have access to the Naïlo private springs. "Let's go to the public ones." she said off-handedly. She would ignore whatever Esther was trying to say. The raven didn't understand all there Elven social conventions like she did. It would all be fine.

Sly ended up tagging along after they visited the estate, as did Saeran (albeit at a distance.) Jennessa took the opportunity to change into her new swimsuit with only her cloak over it. It was too chilly to strut among the trees in such sheer garments. Even with the cloak she felt chilly, and tried to stay close to Tyson for warmth.

Half an hour later found them all walking up a hill in the significantly darker wood to a pleasantly private spring. There were only a few others using the waters, so Tyson deemed it sufficient for their needs, and Sly made it a point to jump in first.

Eryndor was humming as he relaxed in the bath. His paper was finished, and now he could just let loose. The only others in this particular pool were a couple, a noble that he could not recognize at this distance, and a simple elf from the college like himself. He heard a stick crack and he quickly looked over. It would appear to an onlooker that he was jumpy and nervous, but rather remembering the lovely woman he'd run into in the library earlier that day, he couldn't help but think that he would see her coming down to join him any second, silly as it seemed. He sunk down disappointedly as a bunny hopped by. She wasn't coming, what was he thinking? And if she did, the chances that she would go to the same exact- Voices from the path leading down caught his and the others' attention now. And he squinted up when he saw motion and felt his heart stop at the red hair, easily visible from where he was. "Elawyn?" he called out hopefully.

The pools shone green under the moonlight in an elf's perspective, and a thin steam rose from the tops. It was gorgeous.

Jennessa, full of excitement and mirth, heard his voice with her keen ears. Few people here knew her name, so of course it must have been Eryndor. She waved in a big gesture at him on the far side of the spring. Introductions would follow naturally.

Grinning he made his way over to her (carefully, as to not splash around embarrassingly) and spoke. "I'm glad to see you here. I didn't know if you'd come," he said softly, not breaking eye contact. "Is this your party?" His sparkling eyes looked at the men surrounding her, immediately noticing the presence of not one but both Naïlo brothers. He started, then bowed respectfully. "Eryndor Berethryl. Pleased to meet you." Tyson's eyes narrowed at this man, clearly the same one who had whisked Jennessa away without his knowing just hours before.

Tyson, always one for formalities, seemed uncooperative with this one. Jennessa furrowed her brows and did the introduction for him. "Tyson Naïlo, Paladin." she said with a smile. "This grouch is Saeran Naïlo, ambassador. (hmph) And Sly, our ranger, is the one doing the backstroke." she finished, pointing.

Eryndor felt a tremor of discomfort travel down his spine at the looks the brothers gave him. One looked angry and accusatory, and the other was annoyed and made him feel no more significant than one of the shrubs lining the steaming water. Eryndor swallowed his fear and hoped that he was imagining it. "Well by all means, enjoy yourselves. I was sitting over there. I'll leave you be, but you're welcome to come talk to me," he said, looking at Jennessa hopefully. He excused himself and escaped the glares.

At that moment, a body sauntered up behind Saeran and draped its arms around his torso, pulling him against a firm and dripping chest. "How nice of you all to come see me," Sidhion said cheerfully, deliberately breathing on Saeran's ear.

"We can sit on this end," Tyson told Jennessa. "Or we could choose a different spring, if you'd like." He didn't like this Eryndor character.

Jennessa's face fell. "Don't you want to talk to Eryndor? He just loves stories. I know you can tell better ones than me."

_Not really. At all._ "I don't really know him," Tyson dismissed. The last thing he wanted to do was tell stories to another man. One who clearly had eyes for Jennessa.

Jennessa noticed the scene over Tyson's shoulder and was thoroughly confused.

Tyson pulled Jennessa away from the exchange, seeing the distress on her face and wanting to be away from both Sidhion and Saeran as soon as possible. "I suppose one story couldn't hurt."

Eryndor smiled happily to see Jennessa coming over to where he sat. And now that he had the chance to look at her properly, the lovely blue fabric that shimmered and stretched over her previously concealed curves was just visible under the robe she was wearing for warmth. His face heated up and he quickly looked up toward the sky instead, which was mostly blocked out by distant Lamara branches, a few glittering stars visible here and there, as he waited for them to find a place to sit and join him.

Jennessa shook her head free of that confusion and was just happy to get to talk with Eryndor again. "Great." At the edge of the water she gingerly undid her cloak and set it on the ground, feeling a chill wind cross her thighs. She hurried to enter the warmth of the pool, and she was glad when she did. It was amazingly warm, and she felt it radiate through her whole body. She quickly stepped in to a depth that wetted her collarbone, and breathed a comfortable sigh.

Tyson followed suit and almost growled when Eryndor's eyes darted to Jennessa's uncloaked body for a split second. Perhaps he should have tried his luck with Saeran. The familiar restorative waters immediately set to work on his battered form, and his skin tingled as it cleaned and massaged. He sighed deeply.

"Thank you for coming to sit with me. That is a very lovely suit. It goes well with your hair." It wasn't difficult to guess how she'd gotten such a fine garment, based on her company. Who he was oblivious to now anyway. "How was the rest of your day?"

Jennessa looked shyly into the water when Eryndor spoke his kind words. "I had a very nice day," she said brightly. She glanced up at Tyson, the man who'd shown her such a wonderful evening. He was uncomfortable, despite the hot water. He must have been tense around the stranger. She decided to amend the situation. "Eryndor is a student at the college." she said to him. _Please talk about that. Or anything. Make this situation stop being so awkward._

Tyson nodded. "I was never really..." _even slightly interested in the college._ He really wished it could have been a relaxing night with Jennessa, and now he was positive she had only wanted to come to see this man, and his pride was hurt. He would just go home now, if it weren't for the fact that he'd be leaving Jennessa behind with this predator and no way to get home.

Eryndor bashfully ducked his head. "That's alright. A lot of people don't understand. I just really enjoy books and learning. But I can't apply any of it to safe my life. That's what makes your adventures so incredible! I can't believe you've fought a dragon," Eryndor said, eyes wide as he recounted one of several tales Jennessa had disclosed to him earlier in the day.

_That's better._ Jennessa thought to herself. Eryndor was talking like normal again, and it made her relax. She floated a little closer the edge, sitting in between Tyson and Eryndor while he spoke. The dragon story was one Tyson should be proud of, right? She looked between the two of them, as if she was waiting for them all to become the best of friends.

Tyson felt a glow of pride at one of his greatest triumphs. "I dealt the finishing blow." As Eryndor seemed to lean in, Tyson recanted the story (to the best of his memory, before he was knocked out)

Eryndor felt honored to be one of the few in the world who may ever hear these fantastic tales. Perhaps he could record them and publish them for all to know and read. And just imagine, Tyson Naïlo, the noble, a brave (if not somewhat brutish) hero just like in the stories and memoirs and legends. Toward the end of the story, the three of them were splashed with hot water, and they turned to see Sly had gotten bored of swimming and decided to bother them.

"Oh, hello. My name is Eryndor. You must be Sly," said Eryndor, pleased to meet the Inu of the group. He also looked battle worn.

"I'm Tyson," said the Inu. Eryndor looked at Jennessa hopelessly confused.

Jennessa rolled her eyes and swung a kick at Sly which he evaded effortlessly. "He just says things like that. He thinks it's funny. I think it's infuriating," she explained, exasperated. "You better watch yourself," she warned Sly with a smirk. Her eyes flashed an unnatural brightness and the fur on Sly's nose slowly turned from rust-colored to fuchsia.

Tyson snorted. Eryndor chuckled as well. Oh the things a wizard could do.. He felt slightly disappointed, as he always did, when reminded of his own inability. But nevertheless, he stayed positive. He was with the girl of his dreams. "Is that raven I saw earlier your familiar?" he asked Elawyn. Tyson's eyes narrowed. He hoped Sly would sit himself between them. They were sitting too close to each other for his liking. But instead, Sly grabbed Tyson's arm and pulled. "Hey, there's something glowing at the bottom of the water! Come on."

Eryndor tried to cut in. "Oh, that's-" Tyson found it surprisingly difficult to shake the Inu arm loose, and was pulled away from the others. ("Let go of me!")

"Green eyes and a beak she can't keep shut? Probably Esther." Jennessa glanced at Tyson and Sly in confusion. _Why is he being taken away from me?_

Tyson tried to pull away from Sly as he was pulled toward the middle of the spring without having to expressly state that he couldn't swim.

Eryndor blinked and looked at Jennessa. "Esther. What a lovely name. What is she like?"

Tyson and Sly were goofing off, as usual. She was a little disappointed that Tyson had left her side. "Really odd. A know it all." Jennessa relayed, kicking her feet in the water. "You can talk to her yourself sometime, she speaks. She's a little upset at me right now, though. I don't understand why."

Tyson began to shove at Sly more frantically as the water was up to his chin and he needed to step back before his feet wouldn't touch the silty floor anymore. He pulled with his every bit of strength.

"Come on, Tyson. It's really cool, I swear. Like, I was thinking of incorporating it into my mask. Wouldn't that be cool? A mask that glowed?"

Eryndor, sensing his new friend's distress and feeling bold, reached out to take Jennessa's hand loosely in his with the delicate touch he reserved for any tome or scroll or scrap of parchment he ever came into contact with. "I'm sorry to hear that. The way you speak of her sounds like she knows you better than anyone." He only wished he could be the familiar of someone so amazing. He scooted closer as subtlety as his body allowed.

Jennessa's breath caught in surprise from Eryndor's touch. Friends didn't hold hands. Maybe it was just sort of a reassuring pat, and she was misunderstanding. But now he was scooting closer. Panic gripped her fast-beating heart and Jennessa began to reconsider the events of the day. Eryndor said it wasn't a date, but maybe he didn't mean it. Esther was right all along. And she'd been a fool. She'd let him coax her into coming to see him wearing almost nothing, and now that Tyson wasn't paying attention, he had her. But she didn't want to hurt him. He was too sweet and kind and innocent. Totally distracted from the commotion in the center of the pool, Jennessa blinked at Eryndor. What was he saying again? "Uh... Esther? Yes, I suppose," she breathed.

Tyson, by chance in his splashing, managed to see Eryndor moving in. And he'd be darned if he didn't know exactly why. In a surge of paladin protectiveness, he threw Sly across the water toward the elven couple and tiptoed back until he was on solid ground.

Eryndor sighed internally. And she was uncomfortable. Why did he ever expect it to be different? He was just setting himself up for failure. He looked at the smaller but more calloused hand in his and knew they were from different world. Then he thought of Minrariel and her words and he looked into Jennessa's eyes genuinely. "I have to ask. Would you ever be interested in.. In someone like me. I know I'm bookish and not strong or fierce or powerful or anything like the men you live your life with. But you're incredible. You're so smart and so beautiful and clever and funny and a joy to be around." The words continued tumbling out. "I've never met anyone like you, in over a century of searching for a kindred spirit, but now that I have I can't let this opportunity slip me by. And I understand if you never want to see me again after I do this but.." Before he could stop himself, Eryndor took Jennessa's jaw in his other hand like it was the world's sweetest treasure, and leaned in to place a chaste kiss on her lips. Brief, sweet, and his first. And he opened his eyes and jumped back, as if coming to his senses.

As he talked and talked and said wonderful things, Jennessa could only stare at him. He was so candid. She could see in his eyes Eryndor meant every word. And if she doubted for an instant, then he proved her wrong when he gently took her lips and her heart surged with some run off of what he must have felt for her. She was overwhelmed, but the kiss was so swift she barely could stop him before he pulled away himself. Jennessa must have looked absolutely shocked. And then she saw Tyson, apparently free from Sly, and coming this way as quickly as he could. The fire in his eyes made her feel a pang of worry for Eryndor. He was obviously upset, and she wondered if it was more concern, or jealousy.

Eryndor covered his mouth, and his cheeks were redder than they'd ever been. "Oh, oh I'm.. Elawyn please forgiv-" he managed to squeak before a fist slammed into his skull, knocking him back several yards. Tyson was seething. "Did he hurt you?" He questioned between gritted teeth.

Jennessa jumped as Eryndor was ripped from her hand and sent flying. Her hand clapped against her mouth, so recently attended to, to cover a gasp. _That was an overreaction._ She looked up at Tyson, still shocked. Everything was happening so quickly. "No. No he didn't. Is he-?"

"Why do you care? He was touching you!" Tyson never would have killed someone in a single punch unless he was sure they were evil and deserved it. He was sort of hurt that Jennessa suspected he was capable of such a thing. "He's fine," Tyson said quietly.

Eryndor's vision went black and he laid still on the stones for a minute in shock. What had just happened. And then he felt a throbbing on his eyes that he hadn't felt before ever. He groaned pitifully.

"Yes, but he wasn't attacking me." Jennessa's ears perked at the sound Eryndor made, crumpled on the ground. At least he was alive. Conscious, even. "He just..." her voice trailed off and a hand twitched towards her mouth. "Why did you do that?" She was genuinely confused. She hadn't meant to kiss him, or wanted to (although it wasn't unpleasant) but that was no reason for Tyson to send the scrawny thing sprawling.

Something in Tyson's chest sunk. "I was- did you want him to?" he asked hollowly, schooling his face into a neutral expression. "You don't even know him. He doesn't know you." _He doesn't even know your real name._ He was NOT going to let some creep convince Jennessa he had feelings for her elven form. He didn't know why it mattered so much to him. But he knew he was furious. And his eyes traveled back to where Eryndor's body lie, daring him to stand up. Eryndor shivered and lifted his arms to push himself up from the ground, but found himself unable to get past his elbows.

"No." Jennessa tore her eyes from her poor friend's hurt body to Tyson. "But he didn't deserve that, just for..."_clever words and big, sweet eyes _"trying to kiss me." Jennessa swallowed, and found herself holding back tears. She should have left Eryndor at the library in peace. None of this would have happened. Friendships were dangerous, even if not for her. "I-I'm sorry. You're probably just jealous. I didn't mean for this to happen." Jennessa longed to run to Eryndor's side and help him up.

"I'm not jealous!" he shouted, gesturing wildly. "Go ahead, then, J-Elawyn. I'm going home." Tyson stormed off, the air above his head all but rippling with waves of fury.

Eryndor was still in a bit of a stupor, but he was aware enough to have heard that last exchange. Biting back a pained cry, he prodded the swollen flesh around his eye. He could barely see out of it. He didn't know whether to feel relieved or guilty when he watched the youngest Naïlo march away out of sight. This was all his fault.

Jennessa couldn't make sense of him. "Tyson! Wait, please!" She pulled herself out of the water and hurried after him, but her dear Tyson showed no sign of stopping. Or ever speaking to her again. Tears finally broke through when he nearly slipped and said the name she'd worked to forget about. It always sounded so sweet in his voice. With a shaky sigh, Jennessa finally turned to look at her poor friend on the ground, unable to pick himself up. Silent tears slipped down her face, but she brought herself to his side and tried gingerly to pick him up. "I'm so sorry." she managed through the lump in her throat.

Eryndor appreciated the sentiment, but Elawyn wasn't really helping much. He managed to sit up at least, but his head was spinning all of a sudden and he couldn't really make out her face. Unless she had three heads. He closed his eyes, and bit past the pain. "I'm sorry, Miss Elawyn. I deserved this." He tried to lean away from her angelic touch that he felt guilty receiving.

The sweetness in his voice was like a knife in Jennessa's heart. "No. No you didn't. This was my fault." she insisted through her tears. "I should have told you. I'm an idiot. Esther was right. Oh, what have I done to you?" Jennessa rambled, barely talking to Eryndor anymore but mostly to herself. His eye was swollen, but Jennessa thought to herself he was lucky. Tyson could have done so much worse.

Eryndor touched his head again and barely managed to avoid flinching, for worry that Elawyn would only feel worse. He opened his uninjured eye, his vision clearer, and he could see the distress on her face. Oh no no no. If he had known he was to be the cause of such heartache, he never would have approached her in the library to begin with. She… she was in love with Tyson Naïlo. That much was clear now. And understandably so. Some way, somehow, fate had brought them together on their travels, and he was rich, strong, aloof, handsome… all the things Eryndor could never hope to be. So he was well read, could multiply huge quantities all mentally, could write a killer article in two hours, and read a book in half the time… these were not the skills to impress a woman (as he'd learned time and time again). Definitely not one to Elawyn's caliber. He released a sigh of resignation. "He probably hasn't reached the main city shafts yet. You should go after him."

Jennessa's breath caught and her eyes grew wide. She glanced in the direction Tyson left. There was still time? She looked back at Eryndor, obviously in pain, not all of it physical. Jennessa hung her head. "I'm sorry," she whispered again. "I never... It was nice to talk to you. I meant it. But... I need Tyson," she confessed. "You might think he's a brute. But I can tell he was holding back." She gingerly brushed his discolored eye, choking back more sobs. All she wanted was a friend, and now... "You'll find someone, Eryndor. Someone who thinks of you like I think of him." she said firmly. "But I have to go." Jennessa was sure this was the last she'd ever see of him, despite what they said earlier in the night. He wouldn't dare approach her at the library or the college when there was such a threat of pain. And Tyson would probably not let her out of his sights for the rest of their stay in Holimion. Eryndor looked so heartbroken, and she could understand the feeling. Hesitantly, Jennessa pressed a swift kiss on Eryndor's cheek, and hurried to her feet at last. Time was running out, but she called to him one last time as she picked up her cloak from the side of the pool. "I'm so sorry." She looked at the poor bookish friend she made for the last time, then drew her hood up and hurried away.

And like that she was gone. Eryndor lay back against the stone behind him and just stared sadly ahead. She wasn't meant for him. He could see that now. Even though it seemed like everything in the world was indicating how perfect they were for each other, they really weren't. In fact, they might even have been TOO similar. Because she was nothing like Tyson Naïlo. And yet they'd found each other somehow. This was the last he's ever see of her. He touched his cheek where her soft lips whispered their last goodbye. "Goodbye Elawyn."

Ignoring the Inu that began pestering him not long after, he dragged himself to his feet, and managed to make his way home somehow, without toppling over the edge of a bridge.

Jennessa's bare feet pounded the mossy earth as she desperately retraced her steps to the city entrance. "Tyson!" she shouted through her breaths. _Please, please, stop. Turn around. Let me explain.._ "Tyson!" If he reacted so violently to another man's kiss, then he must love her just like she loved him. So then he'd understand when she pleaded with him, right? "Tyson!" Her breath was nearly running out, but it seemed he didn't want to be found. "Tyson, please!"

Tyson was operating the mechanism, almost halfway up, when by chance a gust of wind made its way through the thick woods, and carried a voice up to him. He thought he'd imagined it, but when he heard it again, he stopped the elevator. He looked over the side, but he couldn't see Jennessa anywhere, even with his fancy elf vision. He sighed. He didn't really want to speak with her. But he knew she was distraught, if she came running after him. She could get herself hurt running around the unfamiliar trees alone. They were safe for someone native to Holimion, but someone who didn't know what they were doing or where they were going… Then he thought, maybe that was just it. They had been attacked and she was coming to get his help. A goblin ambush? It was possible. He began his descent, doubly fast.

_Go, stupid girl. If you don't catch him, he'll leave you here and never forgive you._ Jennessa wiped at her eyes while she maneuvered through the thicket, and the moment of lapsed vision was enough to make her stumble. "Tys-" A gnarled Lamara root caught her bare foot and sent her sprawling. The wind was knocked out of Jennessa with a small *squeak* and she fell upon the brambles, red hair spilling out from her hood.

Tyson reached the soft forest floor for the second time that night and headed in the diction he had known Jennessa to be coming when he found her awkwardly sprawled in the dirt. He was still upset that she would be so interested in this Eryndor guy and have the gall to defend him from Tyson. But with a long-suffering sigh, he moved to her side and easily lifted her from the brambles. "Be careful.."

Jennessa was choked again to think that she'd lost any hope of catching Tyson before he was in the city. But then strong hands lifted her up from the thorns and branches and she looked up in surprise to see him right there next to her. Jennessa was filled again with hope. He came back for her, even though she'd hurt him. There was no time to lose. "Tyson, I was being an imbecile. I'm sorry," she blurted quickly, forgetting about the dirt on her face and the rips in her suit. There was nothing in the world but his eyes, so filled with disdain. "I didn't even know what was really going on until he kissed me, and I'm GLAD you stopped him, because, well..." _Because it wasn't you._ she thought as she rubbed her burning eyes. "Can you forgive me for being such a fool?"

Tyson's head spun at her apology. He had been so sure she had fallen for this Eryndor guy, as he clearly had for her. And here she was, running after him, getting herself dirty and cut up, just to apologize. He didn't know what to say, but he looked at her fondly. She really was here for him. He didn't have to be alone. No one was swooping in and stealing away the only person who actually cared about him. At last he let the corners of his mouth twitch upward, and he set her down on the soft dirt away from the thorns she'd managed to throw herself into. "I'm not upset with you." _Now that I know._ He took her hand in his and played with her fingers while he looked her over. He snorted. "You tear up your clothes faster than I do."

Jennessa exhaled in relief. It was going to be ok. She glanced down at herself and only then realized that her lovely new bathing suit was nearly falling apart. Jennessa tried to cover herself with one arm (because she couldn't bring herself to let go of Tyson's hand with the other). "Oh," she breathed, blushing furiously. But when she forced her shy eyes to look at his, he didn't seem disappointed in how much skin she was showing. There was something else in his gaze she didn't quite recognize...

Tyson didn't bother to move his eyes from Jennessa's normally unseen skin, somehow aroused in spite of everything. With his other hand, he reached up to brush some exposed flesh with the tips of his fingers, and looked into Jennessa's eyes. _Is this okay?_ Instead, he asked, "Are you cold?"

Jennessa swallowed, because her heart suddenly started to beat very quickly. What was he doing to her? His fingers ran over soft, untouched spots of skin and she felt herself grow nervous, but delighted at the same time. He asked her something. What was it, exactly? "Yes," she managed. The night was chilly from winter still, and she still dripped from the water that no longer felt so warm, but his hands seemed to burn on her skin where they chanced brush against her. Slowly Jennessa stopped trying to cover herself up and lowered her arm.

He took that as a good sign. "Come here.." Tyson pulled her to his chest as he placed his arm around her to 'keep her warm.' "We could go back to my estate," he suggested, in a way that was somehow seductive and sensual, even for him. He pressed her in the direction of the lifting shafts, drinking up her reaction to the simplest of touches. Did she even hear his question? Her answer seemed forced, and her eyes had that faraway look they got sometimes when Tyson stood in front of her in battle, or held her hand when they were away from the rest of the party.

Jennessa wanted to bury her head in his chest and never pull away. But Tyson somehow proposed something even more wonderful. "Your, um…" Her heart beat faster than ever from the look in his eyes. Could this really be happening? "Okay. Yes. That sounds like a good idea." He didn't just want to warm her up. Jennessa dared to hope that he wanted to keep her warm, all night. Now those big warm hands were holding her closer, and it made her breathing shallow but here he was, Tyson Naïlo, all mistakes forgotten inviting her home with him. He could lead her anywhere, really, and right now she would follow.

When she agreed, Tyson pulled her toward access without another word, mindful to watch for thorns so Jennessa wouldn't end up more marred than she already was. A family of feral cats crossed their path, staring at Jennessa confusedly. As he looked at Jennessa's face, illuminated in the dark forest and glowing with happiness and amazement and a little of something else, he was sure in his decision. He held her closer. No way was some college peasant to steal her away from h- the party. Jennessa was their wizard and friend and they needed her fire and her compassion. He would be sure to remind her that if she tried to stray again.

When they got into the access chute, Jennessa finally overcame her fluttering heart and shaking hands to put both her arms around Tyson. She was on top of the world. Tyson wasn't enthusiastic to chat like Eryndor was, but Jennessa could appreciate the silence and fill in the gaps by guessing what that handsome face was thinking. She rested her head on his powerful shoulder.

Tyson closed his eyes and let the familiar warmth spread over him that only came from a hug from Jennessa. It was times like these. Silent. Just the two of them. Times like these that he truly appreciated her presence and her caring and everything she'd done. He put his face in her hair as they ascended and shielded her from the cold that was the night air. It was a shame. She really did look beautiful in that suit. But Tyson was willing to reckon she'd look more so without it.

His embrace brought a smile to Jennessa's face. He was always trying to protect her in one way or another. Was now a good time to tell him how she felt about him? While he was trapped on the lift and holding her close? Never in her life did Jennessa have anyone who cared about her the way Tyson did, enough to hold her hand and fight for her and keep her warm and return her affection. Was it so wrong to think maybe, just maybe, he felt the same way about her?

When they reached the top, it was a quick walk to Naïlo estate that seemed a lot longer. The lanterns drew cool colors and dancing shadows, and he hardly seemed to notice the cold over the warmth of Jennessa's slim frame beside his own (not that the cold would have bothered him anyway). And when they reached it at last, they used a side entrance to avoid the staff and Tyson went about properly toweling them off.

The beautiful manor offered respite from the cold night air, and the elegance of it was almost distracting enough for Jennessa to stop blushing over her revealed skin and Tyson's forwardness. Almost. But her cheeks remained hot as she looked up at her handsome guide. They were all alone, after all. "Thank you," she said softly as he worked to keep her dry.

Tyson looked her over in the dim lighting and couldn't help but feel a sense of triumph. She chose him. Then he said something he'd never asked anyone before, and the words confused him as they left his lips because they weren't something he was used to desiring. And yet he knew that he wanted it, wanted her. And there was no use lying about it now. "Stay with me tonight?"

Jennessa gasped, then her face lit up with joy. She couldn't believe he would ask that of her. But now that he had, she would respond quickly, before he could take it back. "Of course," she breathed, almost laughing in sheer happiness, and she took his hand before she could stop herself. Then her smile slipped as she realized the complications of his offer. "I-in your room?" she asked, cheeks bright red. "What if someone finds us?" She thought with a gulp about Mrs. Naïlo's judgmental gaze.

The expedience with which Jennessa responded was almost comical. But that along with her fingers now laced between his own was somehow doing things to him that he understood quite well. He gestured in the direction of his bedroom, not going to force her, but doubting that that would ever be necessary. "No one's going to disturb us. The servants know better. And my parents' wing is in the building across aways." _And they couldn't care less to check up on me._ This building belonged to him and Saeran, who he doubted would be back tonight. The Naïlos rarely both returned on the same night to sleep in their rooms, normally finding much better ways to spend the dark hours.

Jennessa nodded, reassured by his words. She'd never had the luxury of a home so large that two groups of people living in it would be unaware of the happenings on the other side. Not that she'd ever had a boy to bring back to her house, anyway. "So tonight will be just you and I," Jennessa said slowly, and hearing the words made her heart pound. The last twenty seconds had been a great flurry of emotions for her. She smiled shyly up at Tyson and took a timid step towards his room, still gripping his hand.

"Yes. Just us…" In the doorway, Tyson found himself growing impatient, and he lifted Jennessa and fell with her onto the bed, pinning her beneath his arms. He chuckled rarely at her surprised and covered her mouth with his own. With all of her smarts and wit and books, she still found Tyson more precious to her than someone who could offer those in return. And he would be darned if it didn't feel great. Really great.

Jennessa's gasp was caught in Tyson's lips. One second she was standing next to him, and then next she was on her back underneath him. "Mmmph-" Her heart pounded and she considered pulling away and asking him to slow down. He didn't even shut the door before sweeping her up. Was all this happening because of Eryndor somehow? Did Tyson need to prove to her that he was the better kisser? If so, it was working. Jennessa couldn't fight him off even if she wanted to, so she let her nearly exposed body be under his control.

Tyson found himself fueled by her body's response, and he couldn't be stopped now. He deepened the kiss, busying his hands with pulling off the remains of Jennessa's bathing suit, and pressing himself closer to her without crushing her with his weight. And he felt the memory of that scrawny intellectual slip from his mind as he focused on what was, literally, right in front of him.

xxx

There they lay in a sweaty entangled mess, happy as can be, and Jennessa giggled sweetly. She rested just above him, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed and heart thumping. "Tyson, that... I didn't know I could even feel things like that." she whispered to her beloved partner.

Her laughter was infectious. Tyson gave Jennessa an honest smile, if a small one. "Me either…" he muttered. He laid her down beside him comfortably and wrapped his arms around her again. If he was agitated and possessive before, now he was content and satiate. She was his and she wasn't leaving. Not for some scholarly elf with all of the same interests. Not for anyone.

Jennessa snuggled close. It didn't matter to him that she was flighty and foolish. This moment was all she'd wanted since she first met him: to lie, in peace, with his arms wrapped around her and nothing in the world to worry about. It was even sweeter than she'd imagined. Jennessa sighed happily and ran her fingers along his powerful arm that gripped her close, keeping her safe and warm. "Can we stay like this?" she whispered.

_Yes._ "For the night," he promised. She could help him forget about everything that normally plagued his mind. He leaned into her touch and buried his face in her hair, letting his eyelids droop shut at last. "Thank you, Jennessa." _for choosing me._

(And somewhere far away, Eryndor was being treated by Minrariel for the large bruise marring his face, tears falling over what he'd gained and lost all too quickly.)


	17. Alignment Drift Alternate Ending

"What did I say exactly?"

Sidhion laughed. "A nice effort, truly. But though I may have forgotten a lot, given all the drinks you fed me, I haven't forgotten that I helped you, and now you owe me," he said libidinously. "Are we doing this at my place, yours..." then he whispered "..or here in the hall?"

Saeran paled at the breath in his ear. So it hadn't gone exactly the way he'd planned... But if this was the only price he had to pay for what he'd accomplished, maybe he could (he nearly gagged at the thought) pay his debt the way that salacious whisper seemed to imply. He took a step back and eyed Sidhion warily. "You are telling no one. Absolutely no one. Do you understand me?" he breathed.

Victory. "Come now, who would I tell?" He smirked, placing a hand over his heart. "You have my word. This will be for my eyes and ears only." Oh, yes. The way Saeran looked when he was.. involved, wasn't something Sidhion would want to share. He couldn't help but find Saeran's distress adorable- he had really dug this hole for himself. But it was to Sidhion's benefit. "Let's get going, shall we? No use dawdling about."

Saeran folded his arms and followed after Sidhion with a sigh of defeat. "Very well then," he muttered less than enthusiastically. I do have an awful lot to thank you for I suppose... Saeran just wished he wouldn't be so smug about it.

They agreed to complete their transaction at Saeran's household, seeing as it would be the least suspicious. It had been many years since Sidhion spent the night, but when they were children, he had practically LIVED with them. Entering the building brought back so many memories, and Sidhion smiled fondly. Time to make some new ones. There were servants in the main room, and Sidhion opened his mouth to make an excuse about homework or studying when they all scuttled away at the sight of their young master. "You've trained them well," he commented offhandedly.

Saeran's mouth twitched half a smile. "Discretion is valuable on some occasions. Like now." he added somewhat scathingly. Though he'd trapped himself in this arrangement, he didn't have to be jolly about it.

Sidhion choked in mock hurt. "You wound me," he said, pulling Saeran into his lavish bedroom.. the same as he remembered it. "Whyever you choose to hide our love away, I will never understand." Sidhion grinned as he pushed Saeran against the door, holding his wrists as Saeran had held his not a day earlier. "We'd be great, you know. We could have the entire kingdom eating out of our palms in a matter of years."

Saeran was turning red against his will. I have bigger and better plans... Sidhion was much too close for him, and Saeran ended up fumbling for words. "Is this all about what happened at Lamara? Because you know, that was NOT a confession of my 'love' for you." One dance and that little intervention with a brute, and suddenly he was smitten. He was so controlling and unyielding, because Saeran had to accept whatever it was he was going to subject him to. Feeling the heat of Sidhion's body as he was pinned between him and the door was enough to make Saeran shudder.

"Deny it all you want. It's adorable," Sidhion leered, hoping to get a reaction out of him. He was loving the way Saeran was becoming undone. And they hadn't even started! He was growing giddier by the second, because for once, Saeran couldn't reject him. That Lamara had been the greatest in his life, and if anything, it reminded him that he wasn't nothing to Saeran. Why, with a little persistence, ANYTHING could happen. And with that thought, he closed his eyes to Saeran's flushed cheeks and indignant stare and drove forward to devour Saeran's mouth, pressing their bodies closer still.

And just like that Sidhion was upon him. Saeran's eyes stayed open for a moment in shock, before his heartbeat quickened to find that Sidhion was quite a good kisser besides. Slowly, begrudgingly, Saeran shut his eyes and let his lips play along, still helplessly pinned to the door of his own bedroom.

Sidhion's heart leapt for joy when Saeran responded. These perfect lips that spun so many tales of invention and wood countless females were his to finally silence and dominate. When at last he pulled away for air with a swipe of his tongue over Saeran's bottom lip, he laughed, a melodic sound. "You're blushing," he pointed out cheekily. He lowered his head to attack Saeran's neck the way he'd always dreamt of, his hands slipping upward over Saeran's wrists to lace their fingers together.

Saeran gasped sharply as soft skilled lips danced and suckled their way along his neck. "Well, whose fault is that?" he mumbled, barely able to speak at all given the heat on his cheeks and the nervousness that beset his chest. He had no idea what he was doing or how Sidhion had convinced him to agree to this. He was so damned enthusiastic. Saeran wanted to shirk away but there was nowhere to go. He was trapped, in his own bedroom even. The only way out was the door he was pressed so passionately against.

Sidhion hummed innocently against his friend's moistened skin. "Whose indeed?" When he found Saeran's pulse, he was delighted to see how it sped, and he focused on that spot for a moment. When he released Saeran's arms at last, he followed by moving his hands to slip under the hem of Saeran's dress shirt, where they grazed the hidden skin beneath and pulled the cloth eagerly upward. "Let's just get these out of the way, shall we?" he asked cheerfully, as he helped Saeran undress. He knew that Saeran would die before running out of here half clothed. How far shall I take this? "We could move somewhere more comfortable if you'd like... but I don't mind doing this against the wall," he said in a teasing voice, though it wasn't completely untrue.

Saeran deposited his shirt directly in the hamper, chest now exposed for Sidhion's enjoyment. "You're more than familiar with my room." Saeran muttered. "Pick a spot." He gestured grandly at the room in which many a sleepover had taken place between the two of them. Oh, dear gods he hoped this wouldn't last all night. Apparently Sidhion wasn't satisfied with violating his mouth alone. Saeran dreaded to wonder how much more it would take to fulfill his debt. He wouldn't suggest the bed himself. No, no, even if it was the roomiest and most orthodox spot in the room, he was not going to subject himself to whatever filthy riposte would follow such a proposal.

His eyes lingered for a moment on that flawless skin. Sidhion tapped his chin thoughtfully. "I can have you anywhere I like? How kind. In that case, why not try the settee?" he suggested, taking Saeran's hands and maneuvering the two of them to said piece of furniture. He pushed Saeran gently back until he fell back on his elbows, laid out perfectly for Sidhion to devastate. He met eyes with Saeran hungrily before stripping to reveal his own lean muscles. Following Saeran onto the sofa, now he was practically lying on top, their chests so nearly touching, his face hovering inches from Saeran's. "Why don't we make deals like this more often?"

Saeran sighed heavily when at last his muscles began to relax, though there was still a pronounced soreness. He and Sidhion were practically stuck together, damp with sweat, among other things. Then he slowly came to realize Sidhion was wrapped around him, no longer enjoying the fruits of his agreement but just... cuddling? He dropped his arms and cleared his throat.

There it is. Sidhion sighed. At first he was going to sit up, but he decided he really didn't want to. This heady warmth was still surrounding the two of them and tickling his senses. So he smirked instead. "Always so impatient. Don't worry, I'll be ready to go again after another minute," Sidhion mumbled into Saeran's neck, his hand roaming down his hip sensually.

Saeran's stomach plummeted. "You can't be serious." The thought alone made him cringe in pain. Whether he EVER wanted to do this with Sidhion or anyone else again was doubtful, but to follow up so quickly would be torturous. He hadn't agreed to an entire night of this deviance. Had he? He removed Sidhion's hand from his thigh and tried his best to move away, but all he could do without throwing Sidhion off of him was lay back into the cushions.

Sidhion snorted, then started laughing a carefree sound. "I wasn't that terrible, was I?" he sniggered, meeting Saeran's eyes. Saeran kept shifting away from him, and as much as he wanted to remain in this position, he sympathized with the ache Saeran was sure to have right now. Regretfully, Sidhion moved away, yawning and stretching. He didn't even want to think of what his lovely curls looked like now.

Freed from their embrace, Saeran quickly brought himself to his feet (which seemed a lot shakier than before he was laid down). His pants were near enough to grab while avoiding Sidhion's gaze, so he seized them from the floor and strode over to the door to his personal washroom. Before slamming himself in wordlessly, he wondered how those less fortunate with money hid incidents like this from onlookers. How pleasant it was to be born to wealth...

Sidhion stopped smiling when Saeran was out of sight. He stood up and pulled his own clothes on lazily. They hadn't specified any parameters by which Saeran owed him, so he would just let the debt be paid. He marveled over the settee that they'd effectively soiled, and felt a tug in his heart. Should I leave? he wondered, staring at the door that Saeran had shut to uphold some semblance of privacy (at tad late). He fixed his hair as best he could by feel alone, vehemently avoiding the mirror, and straightened himself, slinking into another chair dully. Everything in his body screamed triumph, and yet.. He hummed an uncanny tune he'd heard Lona practicing, and waited patiently through the minutes (or hours?) it would take for Saeran to return. The general consensus in the household would be that he'd spent the night like he always used to- Saeran's mother would be delighted- so it would make sense for him to stay. But if Saeran wished for him to leave, then he would at least say a goodbye before doing so.

Saeran gripped the washbowl with white knuckles, unable to glace up into the mirror to look himself in the eyes. He could barely believe what had just happened to him... and even less so that he'd come to enjoy it. The last day felt like a blur, perhaps because he'd experienced a lot of it not in his own body, and perhaps because it was such a flurry of actions and emotions fit to make his head spin. Another shudder wracked his spine as moment by moment the encounter came flashing back to him. How could he allow this to spin so desperately out of his control?

Saeran switched open a valve on the wall to let the irrigated rainwater that ran through Holimion fill the bowl for yet a third time, and splashed the clear, cold water over his face and through his hair. The fact was, this wasn't out of his control. If Sidhion was kept satisfied (he shivered again), then he had no interest in spreading Saeran's secret. And he still didn't know the extent to which he aided Saeran, or the ends he helped achieve. Finally Saeran mustered the strength to slip his pants back on, relatively clean, and left the washroom with a steadying breath to find, unsurprisingly, Sidhion sitting watching the door patiently, not unlike a loyal dog awaiting its master's return.

Sidhion smiled jovially, his posture surprisingly rigid despite what had just taken place. But like he'd said, he had much more stamina. Saeran looked clearer in mind now, water dripping down his face, down his neck.. Sidhion met Saeran's eyes before his vision wandered too low. "Don't look at me like that, of course I'm still here," he teased. "Feeling refreshed?"

Saeran snorted humorlessly. "Not the word I'd use." He was sort of relieved that Sidhion had put his clothes back on, but that cheerful voice and lusty gaze disarmed him. He considered ducking back into the washroom, but he'd be cornered once more. There was no escape from this situation that was so unfamiliar and awkward and se... confusing. He stepped fully into his room, if somewhat bowlegged, trying not to look Sidhion in the eye. Instead his gaze fell on the place of their depravity. "I'm going to need a new settee," Saeran muttered.

Saeran seemed confused and uncomfortable. It was ironic how Saeran was still trying to protect himself from Sidhion's advances, acting as if ten minutes ago he hadn't been crooked against the cushions lost in throws of passion beneath Sidhion's skill. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you didn't enjoy yourself," Sidhion said lightly, crossing his legs. Then he looked at Saeran with a wicked grin. "But I know better." He pretended not to notice that Saeran was walking oddly, as he knew his friend hated to be fawned over, but that didn't stop him from feeling responsible. Though it was completely worth it.

Saeran knew he couldn't lie to Sidhion about coming around to enjoy the act. There was enough evidence smeared about to indicate the truth, besides the fact that Sidhion could read him too well. He finally looked over at his friend. "Certainly not as much as you." He dropped himself in a lounge chair and eyed Sidhion with some uncertainty and some expectance. "What will you have of me now?" Saeran asked after a pause, arms folded in a way that didn't hide his defined chest.

Sidhion quirked his brow, his eyes traveling down appreciatively in a way that was completely unsubtle. "You haven't had enough?" Is this an all night affair? Please tell me it's an all night affair. He knew that Saeran must be in some pain, but if this was to last him the next year or two or ten or hundred.. well surely he had to make the most of it! He stood and crossed the plush rug like a predator, reaching Saeran in a matter of seconds and running his finger down Saeran's chest, smirking when Saeran's muscles shuddered and his skin flared up sensitively with goosebumps. "Look how your body yearns for mine," he murmured in wonderment, suddenly all too close.

Saeran breathed in sharply and he struggled to focus on something other than the mess of Sidhion's hair or his soft scent or his breath gently grazing his cheek. "If you're done with me, then..." Saeran began in a low voice, before a shiver overtook him. Oh, it was too much. Hadn't he fulfilled his end of the deal? Why was Sidhion even still here? He steadied his breathing and fought the urge to turn away by reminding himself that whether he knew it or not, Sidhion had earned the right to do whatever he wished tonight. Saeran was so grateful for his help, he thought, it might even be tolerable to play along. The more fun he has tonight, the less he will recall the one before. That thought was enough motivation to bring Saeran to lean out of his lounge chair and into Sidhion's touch, expression suddenly dominated by that evil smile. "I suppose there's life in us yet," he whispered, eyes locked with his.

The Saeran that Sidhion knew would have shoved him away now, having completed the contract. While they never explicitly stated what the grounds of repayment were in terms of duration, as the whole thing had been rather implied and informal to begin with, Saeran normally would have jumped at the opportunity to exploit such a loophole. The fact that he was willing to continue could only mean that whatever Sidhion had done to help him was quite important. It also meant that it was something he didn't want Sidhion to know or even think about. Something that might have dire consequences if he or anyone found out... What are you up to, Naïlo? Sidhion's skepticism died however when Saeran looked at him with his signature smile, piercing into him. Sidhion leaned forward to touch his lips to Saeran's, unable to resist temptation and not ashamed to admit it. "Then what are we waiting for?" he whispered back. "You may have me this time," he offered, barely audibly, as even those eyes could steal his voice away forever.

Sidhion really was taking advantage of Saeran's cooperation, with all these little pecks and touches that he for once allowed. The dark haired elf quirked an eyebrow in reply. "Is that so?" The promise of payback, along with the warmth from a body pressed much too close, and the thought of all Sidhion's expertise that he'd already experienced, was enough to make Saeran quite eager for their second round. He took Sidhion by the waist and yanked him close, Saeran laying back into the chair as his partner fell into his lap.

Surprised, Sidhion emitted a sound that some would not consider entirely masculine, and he covered it by clearing his throat. Be alluring, dammit. "If you think you can manage.." Sidhion responded, leaning into Saeran and burying his face in his neck. "But I can be a handful," he challenged, nibbling softly. Are we doing this in the chair? "And that's for someone who knows how to pleasure a man.." His fantasies were finally coming to life, if not as extreme as some of the things he'd dreamed up.. And when he looked in Saeran's eyes, the last thing he saw was affection. But something about this was still new and thrilling, and Sidhion was more than ready to indulge.

Saeran grinned and started to peel away Sidhion's clothes once more, one intricate fastener at a time. Haste was not of importance, so he was slow and sensual about his movements. "You know how I love a challenge," Saeran muttered into Sidhion's ear before he brushed his tongue along the point of it.

Sidhion stopped breathing and his eyes fluttered shut. Saeran's tongue was so warm and so soft and SO sudden. It didn't help that his ears were really quite sensitive. A faint pink infuriatingly tinged his cheekbones, but he kept his expression neutral and hummed. "In case you hadn't noticed," he said meaningfully. "So do I." He tugged Saeran's face to his lips roughly and began their 'challenge' once and for all, interrupting Saeran's removal of his clothes.

Saeran's hands froze on Sidhion's chest. How can you be so girlish and yet so not? He couldn't help but kiss back, and it wasn't from the fear of defeat that his heart raced and his body heated up. He let go of Sidhion's coat to wrap his arms around his waist, matching the vigor in his lips as best he could. His world was nothing but a trembling mess of their bodies moving desperately together.

Sidhion pushed himself against Saeran with ALMOST too much force. With Saeran's body responding underneath him, he could practically imagine that they both wanted this. (But not really.) Still, he couldn't help but grow more playful as the seconds wore on. He pulled away then. Saeran had followed his movements, which was plenty reason enough to goad him. "Surely you don't intend to play catch up all night?" A crooked smile found its way onto Sidhion's face and his fingers danced around the inside of Saeran's waistband. "Not that I mind leading."

Saeran perked ever so slightly up at the contact. It was hard to forget the things Sidhion could do to him if he found his way around those clothes. He brushed Sidhion's hand with his own and traveled gently along his arm, to rest on his shoulder. "Perhaps I'm making it too easy for you?" he asked, before he smirked and took Sidhion's thigh and shoved him off the chair. Saeran himself wasn't long to follow; he stood up swiftly and swept Sidhion close once more, suddenly on their feet again. Saeran waited for the blush and the stutter to return and let him know that Sidhion was his to control.

"You've never been easy." Sidhion stifled a gasp and swallowed thickly, letting Saeran guide him to wheresoever he desired. That smirk again. It was almost as if they were dancing again. Oh Saeran was good, but it would take more than that to shake his phlegm. "Hmm, you're sending me mixed messages. Shoving me away and pulling me in just as fast," Sidhion carped lightheartedly. His hands on Saeran's shoulders tightened and loosened reflexively. "One would say you couldn't make up your mind. Do I confuse you so much?" He was stalling more than anything else, regathering his confidence. He wouldn't lose so quickly.

Absolutely. But Saeran refused to yield. "You love it," he accused softly, leaning closer. He closed his eyes to touch lips with Sidhion's, and let their warm entangled bodies move ever closer... before he looked sharply into Sidhion's eyes and, not a breath later, threw him backwards to be caught on the bed.

He'd been expecting that. He really had. Honest. And yet the air flew out of his lungs and his face burned. Sidhion struggled to regain composure, lifting himself onto his elbows. "Ch-cheap tricks are just that. You won't get very far," he said, but wished he hadn't. Because if Saeran's respondent grin was anything to go by, he'd just slipped up.

Saeran chuckled darkly and leaned over the bed after him. That flush was so satisfying... "But I've already won." Saeran's voice was silk. He brushed one hand along Sidhion's wonderfully red cheek and the other slowly along the hem of his pants. It works every time on you...

"..." Sidhion was pretty darned sure that he was the one who'd taken up Enchanting magic, and yet somehow his very being was rooted to the sheets where he was so gracelessly hurled by nothing more than a gaze, a voice, and some scathingly delicate touches. Something in that chuckle was more corrupt than Sidhion had ever heard emitted from those lips.

And he couldn't help but wonder if Saeran was even talking about their silly duel any longer.

He looked away from Saeran's eyes when his thumb brushed Sidhion's fine skin, unable to refute Saeran's statement. He managed to wrap his knee around Saeran's leg and urged him closer.

Both of them spent, Sidhion lowered himself (much to the relief of his screaming muscles) lithely to the bed, with little energy nor will to do much else than lie here. Here on Saeran Naïlo's bed in Saeran Naïlo's quarters in Saeran Naïlo's manor, beneath Saeran Naïlo. He turned his head to look up at Saeran and flash the most loving, carefree smile he'd ever shown someone in his life. But only for a second, before self-consciousness morphed it into a more seemly and natural complacent one. Don't be a fool, so eager to bear yourself to him. Nothing has changed. "So?" he questioned vainly. "How'd I do?"

Saeran's heart hiccupped oddly and he cleared his throat. Why in the world was he blushing? Did it have something to do with the way he could almost still feel Sidhion's heartbeat in that remnant tingling sensation below? Or just that he was totally exposed with a man he'd just ravenously enjoyed? Or that sparkle in Sidhion's eye that he hadn't seen in years and years?

"I think I'm the one who should be asking you that." Saeran said, aloof through his twice-exhausted heavy breath. "But considering the state of my bedsheets, the reception is fairly obvious."

Sidhion lifted an arm to drape around Saeran's neck and pulled himself up until their lips were nearly touching. "I'll simply add it to the list of happenings tonight that we aren't speaking of." Or I'll mention it all the time... He gave Saeran a small kiss and then let himself fall back softly onto the mattress. He loved how he could feel Saeran's entire body against his. "Which really weren't so bad, were they?" he implored. "Then again, I've never received complaints in the bedroom," he gloated.

Saeran rolled off him and to his side. "That makes two of us," he said with a cocky smirk. This is our secret. Relieved, Saeran propped his fist up against his temple and kept his eyes on Sidhion's face. "Is your lust sated?" he dared to ask. "Did you get what you wanted out of me?"

"Hmmm," he said, with a silly pensive look, given Saeran's eyes were still upon him. It's not what I really wanted. Sidhion shifted now that Saeran's weight was off of him, putting his arms behind his head. Though he wished Saeran hadn't moved. "Depends. Are you going to have me leave?"

Saeran snorted a defeated sigh through his nose. "It could raise questions. That's not typical of us." Trapped again. Though it wasn't 'typical' for them to be spending time in each other's company at all as of... well, since Sidhion's declaration as a confirmed bachelor... Sidhion waltzing away from the manor with shaky knees and ruffled hair was a loose end Saeran was not prepared to deal with. "I suppose you're here for the night," he muttered begrudgingly, fidgeting with a lock of Sidhion's hair.

"Marvelous." Sidhion gave a pleased smile. What is your fascination with my hair? "Hmm. Well as much as I'd normally attest to otherwise, I must admit you've worn me out," he said with theatrical regret. Then he gave a wink. "But I wouldn't mind a repeat a little later. If you need anything," he said, running a finger over his lips with allure. "Just wake me up." He stretched and turned on his side to be more comfortable.

Saeran felt another wave of indignity. He was really taking those little touches and kisses for granted. This morning he would make a point to put a hard stop to it once and for all. Saeran rolled suddenly off the bed and sprang fluidly to his feet, ripping the soiled bedsheet away as he went. "I'd say it's warm enough, wouldn't you?" he said snidely, back turned to Sidhion as he lovelessly jammed the down comforter into the laundry chute. He bent to pick up their clothes and threw Sidhion his trousers unceremoniously. "What are we, playing house now?" There was no elegant pretense in his bitter voice this time. Anything to wipe that cheerful, seductive smile off of his face...

It hurt a little bit, but it was to be expected. Of course, he wouldn't reveal any of that. The sheets were torn from beneath him, and soon after his pants hit him in the abdomen. He raised a brow, opening his eyes. "Tempting. What does that make me?" Rather than put the article back on, he simply stared at it and fiddled with the zipper, making no other movements to change his position. So volatile so suddenly. Go back to pretending you can tolerate me.

Saeran snorted and examined his fingernails now that he'd slipped back into his pants. "The pet." He glanced up casually for a reaction. _You wanted to be around me, remember? Is this what you wanted? Go on, lose your temper and tell me off and give up on me like the other girls. Forget all those games we used to play and the way we ruled this town. Hate me, Sidhion. Do it already._

Sidhion's eyes widened in surprise, but he had his mask to fall back on. And he smiled his jovial fake smile. That isn't really how you think of me. "How perverse.. I can play a pet," he said instead, suggestively. Not because he was in the mood. Mostly just to irritate Saeran back. If Saeran was going to pull at his nerves (the way he was gauging him, testing his patience...), well he would fight back. He'd dealt with Saeran his entire life. He KNEW Saeran. And he knew his tricks. I'm not so easy to scare off.

Saeran gagged and didn't bother to hide it. "Is nothing beneath you?" _Why do you keep grinning at me like that? You've had your fun. That's all you wanted from me from the start. So be done with me already._ If only he knew exactly what he'd done to help Saeran... that he'd magically secured a night with the princess for the man he so obsessed over, well, that would wipe the nasty smile from his face. Saeran stared, half tempted to blow the whole thing just to see Sidhion break that jolly persona.

_For you, no._ "I take offense. You were beneath me not that long ago," he commented in mock upset. He was dancing on a fine line, he knew. And Saeran was liable to explode soon. He should really stop. Saeran's dark look said that he knew something, however. What are you hiding from me? Their nonverbal conversation was very different indeed, and even their gazes- Saeran's disgusted one and Sidhion's lazy half-lidded one- were at war right now, non-blinking. Tension was building in the atmosphere, and Sidhion would have to take it upon himself to mitigate it. But not yet, of course.

Saeran's lip curled, and he couldn't be civil any more. Sidhion was trying to drive him mad, that's all. "What." he growled, advancing. "What is it that you want from me? You've had your way with me. You've got me right where you want me, don't you Sidhion?" He was raising his voice and his fists were balled, and he hardly noticed because he was so damn angry. "So what the hell is it that I haven't given you?" Saeran was clenching the bedframe, staring Sidhion down as if through a cage. "You've had me. It's over, you won. So WHY are you still smiling and flirting and teasing and..." he paused for breath. He had to, it seemed his tongue was on fire and he could barely see anything but red.

"Don't you know?" Sidhion interrupted him then, shocked at how controlled his own voice seemed in comparison. His eyes were piercing now. He sat up, unthreatened by Saeran's rage. His heart burned painfully. Every word of Saeran's was striking. _As if this is all I've wanted from you.. Surely you don't believe that_! They were moving into dangerous territory again. Not for the first time, he felt the urge to make everything a joke and end it. But he couldn't. Because some conversations were meant to take place, and though they were arguably the most fantastic of actors in all of Holimion, they couldn't keep pretending forever. "Do you remember, Saeran, what I said to you the last time you allowed me on your bed? I do." His own words, though soft, rivaled Saeran's in intensity. And for a man sitting on a mattress, vulnerably unclothed, he was pretty darned intimidating.

Sidhion stole the breath right out of Saeran's open hanging mouth. There was silence.

_No matter how hard I tried, I could never forget_. The last time Sidhion was on his bed, they lived a simpler life. Up until that very last moment when he realized it had never been a game to Sidhion. That was the moment he'd lost a friend and gained... this. He swallowed, anger dampened, and stared into Sidhion's eyes to search for truth.

"You..." Saeran's voice came low at last, disbelieving_, I never gave you a single indication that I wanted you in my life and yet you persist. After all this time, you never gave up? You never moved on? _But no, it couldn't be. What kind of stubborn desperate fool would chase after one who wanted nothing to do with them time and time again? Who cast him aside and degraded him and refused his company?

"But..."

Saeran paled as he realized he understood EXACTLY the sort of fool would do something like that. That he and Sidhion were more alike than he remembered. That he knew exactly what Sidhion's motivation was, because he'd felt it himself. Saeran froze, in a rare moment, at a loss for words.

_You're just staring at me..._ "Is it so hard to believe?" he whispered. "That someone could care too much to let you go?"

He looked down, but he knew he wouldn't cry this time around.

"Maybe you're right. And I'm just a fool." _But I can't stop loving you. Even if I hate the way you look at Vira. The way you look at me. The things you do to me. I fall for you over and over and over..._ He sighed_. And perhaps one day you'll find a girl that you want to stand by for the rest of your life. Maybe she'll be as smart and cunning as you. Maybe you won't tire of her after a week... But then again, maybe not._ "You can treat me as you will. As a friend, as a nuisance, as a pet... But I'll still be here." He laughed then, a sad broken sound. "You have me." _Lock_ _and collar._

Saeran had always expected Sidhion to come around and hate him. It was easy to believe, the way he was promiscuous with men, and after the night Saeran kicked him out of his room. But somehow he never learned to let it go, only allowed that affection to fester. He never really lost his best friend it seemed. He'd simply fallen in love... _with me?_

Half of him wanted to collect his pajamas without a word and go to the guest bedroom across the hall. Another part of him wanted to pull out a card game and talk gossip with the only friend he'd ever had, just like they did before Saeran was left alone. He wanted to scream that he could never love Sidhion back, and he wanted to leap into the arms of the only one who'd ever cared. For one fleeting moment, Saeran knew he didn't deserve to have Sidhion at his side, and wondered what it would take to set him free once and for all, for him to stop following Saeran and hurting himself again and again.

He finally looked away from the eyes that told Sidhion's whole story. His heart was aching. '_that someone could care too much to let you go...'_ He was somewhat surprised to find he didn't want Sidhion to leave anymore. No, right at his side is where he always belonged. Saeran relaxed his posture and his grip on the bedframe, still not quite looking at Sidhion's eyes. It wasn't as though such a passionate, if silent speech had been enough to make Saeran fall in love with him. But somehow he wasn't so angry anymore. Somehow he wondered what it felt like to know you were with someone who cared about you, and always had.

"I suppose you've always been incorrigible." Saeran said softly. "I should have known."

Somehow he'd said something to pacify Saeran. For once, his words had gotten through. It was clear in the change behind Saeran's eyes, and the way his body just sort of deflated. _Did you truly not know? That all the teasing wasn't for purely for fiendish delight. You mean so much more to me._ Sidhion had half expected his words to have him forcibly thrown out of Naïlo Manor, discretion be damned, but no... It was true, after all. That they needed to have this conversation. Perhaps Sidhion wasn't any closer to a happy ending. But perhaps this period of torment had ended, and they could be friends once more. Anything is better than what we've become.

"Lona says the same thing," Sidhion said, brushing his soft hair to the side. I hope you realize that I won't ever change. After a brief silence, he spoke up again. "What will you have of me?" It seemed Saeran wasn't going to banish him. But he knew that Saeran's patience with him had long since vanished, and he was emotionally exhausted, and Saeran wouldn't be hiding anything now.

His eyes followed the motion through his hair... the hair that Saeran had absolutely thrashed through the course of the night. It wasn't so awful, spending the night with Sidhion. What if he gave in, just this once? In the morning they could pretend it never happened, and tonight, for a few blissful moments, he could feel what it was like to be loved. Saeran swallowed. Was it unforgivable and disgusting? Perhaps. But Sidhion certainly wouldn't mind. No one would know. Saeran recalled the passion in Vira's kisses when she believed she was with her Tyson... maybe it would feel just as good. Even if it was another boy, Sidhion must have had even more love in his heart then Vira ever could. Sidhion was his. His best friend, the only one he could trust, and there was once a time they'd call each other partners. Sidhion's eyes begged him to answer his question. Could it be so bad to humor them both for one night?

"Do you remember the old rule we had, when we were young boys?" Saeran said softly, taking one leisurely step after another around the corner of the bed. "Whatever we talked about in this room, we never told another soul. We never let a secret leave the room. Do you recall?"

Sidhion's eyes widened questioningly and he turned his body to face Saeran as he approached. "And all the times that Arkiem tried to force them out of us. Unsuccessfully of course," he chuckled. Seeing as many of their 'secrets' involved mischievous plots to the misfortune of others. Of course there had been plenty of other secrets that to this day they hadn't brought up. "How could I forget?" His posture was relaxed, but his eyes were skeptical. _This sudden change of mood.. what are you getting at now?_

Saeran was standing over Sidhion, battling with himself for a moment, before he leaned over and gently took Sidhion's hand. "This didn't happen," he muttered softly, and then he looked up into Sidhion's eyes. He couldn't stand it anymore. He wanted too desperately to be loved, even for one night, even for a moment. He wanted to feel Sidhion's companionship again. Saeran leaned in, pressing his heart against Sidhion's equally bare chest, and gave him a gentle kiss with more raw, exposed emotion than he'd let anyone ever see in him. Sidhion, and only Sidhion, he could trust with this.

To say that Sidhion was surprised was an understatement. What in the world did I SAY?! he thought, backtracking over his previous words. Saeran wasn't making any sense! But the lips that moved against his were different. Not so desensitized and full of lustful fervor. But something that Sidhion had never been kissed with before. Should he be worried? But then he melted against Saeran once again before he could even wonder if he cared and kissed him back with all the love he dared to show. When they parted for air, he smiled a small genuine smile. "What didn't happen?" he breathed, brushing his knuckles over Saeran's cheek adoringly.

It was sweet and tender and left Saeran breathless with a familiar warmth in his chest. Is this what it's like? Do I even deserve this? He brushed Sidhion's hand with his thumb. Holding his hand... such an innocent gesture of trust and affection. It meant more to Saeran then any act of sex would. Maybe because he didn't take this for granted from naive women, or because you couldn't buy it in a brothel. Saeran smiled his half smile, uncharacteristically full of fondness. "Did you know I held your hand before I ever held a girls'?" he inquired at a whisper.

And just when thought he knew everything about Saeran. "I didn't.." he said in amazement. The whole gesture seemed that much more meaningful. He may not have been Saeran's first kiss, or the first one he'd been with. But he'd been the first person who wanted to hold Saeran. And never stopped. "Why are you telling me this?" Saeran asked, his face betraying his emotions. If I may never have you, why must you play with my emotions so? Saeran was unpredictable. Sidhion couldn't tell what he was thinking, or why he was saying this, or why he was LOOKING at him like that and TOUCHING him and acting like he was doting on Sidhion and not the other way around.

Saeran seemed to snap out of whatever dazed enchantment Sidhion had him under. His smile faded away as he came to his senses. "It's nothing," he insisted half-heartedly, as if he was convincing himself as well, and after another moment he pulled his hand away. He supposed he didn't really expect Sidhion to understand... but he did miss their friendship too. _I have needed you._ Saeran resolved silently that he wouldn't let petty conflict separate him from his Sidhion anymore. Not only was he a valuable ally, but he was a part of Saeran's life he didn't want to relinquish. He pulled away and shot Sidhion a smirk. His eyes said he didn't mind so much to share his room with Sidhion again, after all this time. "Relax. It's your room too, tonight," Saeran said carelessly. _I do hope the authorities are prepared for what we can stir up now that we're back in action _said the mischievous twinkle in the eye of a Saeran Naïlo whose best friend had been returned to his side.

And Saeran was pulling away, and things were normal again. Is it really nothing? Sidhion's ears fell slightly at the loss. But alas, Saeran could be a fickle man. Sidhion tugged on his pants at last, but reclined on the bed as per direction. There was no more tension, sexual or otherwise. And the words his friend spoke held no malice. Things were better now, and started to let his eyes close. He really was exhausted. In the time that he'd spent in this room with Saeran, he'd expended more energy than he possibly could have imagined. And that was quite an accomplishment considering his wild Lamara days, and a certain night he'd experienced seven good months ago. _You are a handful, my friend._ "If you're sure, don't mind if I do." He picked up on Saeran's mood, and his heart leapt at that expression he'd so grown to love. _Oh, do I know that face._ He hummed and looked at his nails. "What are you planning?"

Saeran simply grinned his lovely grin and walked around to throw himself on the other side of the bed. "Oh, I don't know. The kingdom is at our fingertips. What say we let Dursair know exactly how much social standing his pushover of a father wins him in?" he sneered.

Being next to Sidhion, scheming like old times... Saeran felt more alive than he had in months, soreness, heartache, and fiendish delight in all.

Sidhion's nonchalant expression molded into a wicked grin. "Oh, I have SO many ideas." And just like that, their arguments and differences were gone, and Sidhion filled Saeran in on the tidbits he'd picked up at the academy and council meetings, and the accumulated vastness that was his spell book. "It can't be too subtle, of course. The boy is thicker than mud." Sidhion rolled his eyes.

With the connection that they had, it wasn't difficult at all to see why one of them would fall for the other. And yet sometimes Sidhion regretted these feelings. He could never fight them or change them, but if they hadn't come about, his friendship wouldn't have suffered so for the past few decades. But all I can do is hope that one day I will be what you need.

Saeran was smiling and laughing along with him again, just like they used to. When at last he drifted off to sleep next to Sidhion, there was a complacent smile on his handsome face. The morning would bring a tense air and unresolved questions, and more unrequited feelings, but at least in that moment, the two of them were simply together.

Sidhion watched Saeran fall asleep before he did, a relaxed and peaceful expression to replace the ever-guarded eyes and frowning lips. He could hardly remember the last time Saeran felt comfortable to sleep in his presence, and so he treasured this moment, as he had every moment up to this point.

"Are we truly friends again?" he whispered, studying that charming profile that so many ladies fell prey to. It seemed like an eternity could pass and Sidhion wouldn't know the difference. But he felt the strain of this night weighing on him, and resigned himself to his own rest.

"I'm not sorry, you know," he added. "For falling madly for you." He didn't like to remind himself that he was every bit as pathetically helpless to Saeran's appeal as all of those naive women he so openly abhorred. Sidhion may know him better than anyone. He may care for Saeran more than his own family. But does that really make me any less pitiful? While all he wanted to do was hold Saeran close, he brushed a tendril gentle from Saeran's forehead and then turned away to fall into his own sleep.


	18. Dear Vira

"I can't understand why it was you demanded to speak with me in private," the voice came to Saeran that made his heart leap into his throat. "But I'm here. So whatever it is you need to say, speak it now."

Saeran turned away from the veiw for a moment to look at the princess, looking absolutely beautiful with the sun in her tiara and her arms folded impatiently. Somehow, he needed to do this; collect his thoughts and his feelings, the ones he'd been mulling over since taking the first steps away from the capital, and explain to Vira everything she needed to know. There were no masks to hide behind, no lies to cover for him. Saeran was, for once in his life, speaking from his heart alone.  
"Thank you for the honor of your audience," Saeran began slowly. "You are... the most incredible woman in all the world. I'm certain of it. " His heart was pounding in his chest, and Saeran mustered up any ounce of charm that he had remaining after what had been drained simply by being in her presence. "I understand that you think I desire your power and wealth, but nothing could be farther from the truth. I love you, Vira." Saeran managed to say looking right into her emerald eyes. "And I would love you if you hadn't a copper peice to your name. You are the brightest, bravest, most elegant, amazing woman I have ever had the pleasure of being in the presence of. And I can't help but belive that you and I are simply meant to be together."  
"Oh Saeran..."  
And there it was. She was... smiling at him. This was the moment, his one chance, to make Vira his and begin a series of blissful nights in each other's arms, watching the world move on while they simply had each other. Before he took to his knee, Saeran glanced down for a moment to reach into his coat, when she spoke again...  
"Do girls really fall for that act?"  
Saeran faltered, suddenly cold, unable to move his hand from his breast pocket where he'd kept the most elegant engagement necklace money could buy. Did he hear her correctly?  
"I'm sorry...?"  
Vira chuckled quietly to herself. "You're so full of it," she muttered, amused, before she turned away from him and gracefully walked down the way she came. 


	19. Interlewd

At that moment, a body sauntered up behind Saeran and draped its arms around his torso, pulling him against a firm and dripping chest. "How nice of you all to come see me," Sidhion said cheerfully, deliberately breathing on Saeran's ear.  
Saeran was looking forward to letting go of the stressed of travel, but now a new sort of pressure was upon him. He jumped, and the water dripping and slowly cooling his bare chest made him shiver almost more than the breath in his ear. "Sidhion," he said with some poorly masked contempt.  
Jennessa noticed the scene over Tyson's shoulder and was thoroughly confused.  
Sidhion tutted. "Now, now, don't act like you haven't been dying to see me. Why else would you come to all the trouble of finding me here?" he trailed his finger over Saeran's shoulder. "When I'm hardly clothed," he whispered.  
That was just too much. Saeran undid Sidhion's hold and took a firm step back. "Coincidence." he insisted. Tyson and his followers hurried away from him, and Saeran felt his cheeks pale. They must have misunderstood. He and Sidhion were not... anything. "I didn't know I'd find you here."  
Sidhion reveled in testing his boundaries, and pushing the limit further whenever he could. He remembered a time when Saeran wouldn't let him within two feet of him (after discovering his affection of course). He considered this great progress. "Mmm, sure. And I didn't know Tyson had a lover. Or wait, all the nobles know that." Word of the Nailos return, and any assumptions that followed, spread like wildfire through upper circles of Holimion. And this lost Kalinia noble he'd brought back was more gossiped about than the war, Vira's many suitors, and other trivial matters combined. Sidhion stepped into the water again, looking at Saeran innocently. "Care to join me?"  
"Lover?" Saeran repeated, incredulous. It had not before occurred to him that his brother was capable of reciprocating the girl's feelings and even experiencing 'love'. _And he's better off for it._ Anger spiked inside him at the though of his own flesh and blood loving a human. But it was a ridiculous notion. It was not yet in his interest to reveal 'Elawyn's true heritage, so he hid his disgust from Sidhion. "I wouldn't make such an assumption." Saeran said as he gave in and stepped into the pool next to his old friend.  
Sidhion shrugged. "You know better than I do. It doesn't matter what's true, it matters what everyone believes," he said softly as he sunk back against the rock, his eyes closed. "And what people believe," he opened one eye. "Is that your brother it smitten. Some think she's manipulating him, you know. They think she's after the throne."  
Saeran scoffed at the whole preposterous story. Jennessa was a simple woman, and he could understand simple women. But then he remembered the lack of mercy in her eyes when the human had tracked him down in the woods. It wasn't so unbelievable that she could develop such a plot. But he glanced over at her across the pool, and he knew like always she was only chasing the affection of her brother that she could never recieve. "Let the people talk, I suppose." Sidhion chuckled. "That sounds more like you. Let the people have their rumors." He opened his eyes again. "You should've been back months ago." He looked at Saeran imploringly, asking what had happened. Because obviously something had. Saeran seemed slightly off. "I missed you," he said softly.  
Saeran had a hard time believing what he heard. He tore his eyes away from Sidhion as his heart ached to know that after all the hardship of labor and imbeciles and danger that finally he was in a place that he would be known, respected...appreciated. It was then that Saeran once again felt at home. He let all the tension and anger and stress of the journey out in one weighted sigh.  
Sidhion closed his eyes and sighed as well. _Thank Tina you came back to me._ The day that Saeran didn't return, and the months that followed, he was a wreck. But he wouldn't disclose that. No, not if he wanted to save face. He wasn't one of Saeran's desperate girls, chasing a love that had been faked to begin with. He reached over to brush Saeran's hair. "You need to get this cut. It looks awful," he teased.  
Saeran moved fluidly away from his reach. "Probably just filth and blood." he muttered. He dared to look at Sidhion and his eyes that teased. "It wasn't an easy journey," he confessed finally.  
Sidhion's dejected hand returned to the water. At the mention of filth and blood, he shuddered. How unclean and terrible. But he knew he had been correct in his assertion, and sat up and turned to fully face Saeran. "You can tell me."  
Saeran splashed a handful of water over his head to clean his hair that, as Sidhion pointed out, needed grooming badly. "You don't need to hear it all. I lost my bodyguards. Twice. Was taken hostage by savages on more than one occasion. Not to mention spending every waking moment around uncultured humans and pretending to tolerate them. I've been bound and gagged, attacked, ignored, degraded..." Saeran exhaled a shaky breath. "I never should have left. But it's over."  
Sidhion's heart went out for his beloved. If the hardships he had suffered were not evident by his words they were clear in his voice and his eyes. Saeran should have let him come. He might have been able to protect him. How dare so many lay a finger on him. Sidhion was the only one who really understood him. He placed a non wandering hand on his friend's shoulder and gave a respectable silence. Then he decided a distraction. He looked around and his eyes caught movement toward the center of the spring. He smirked. "Does Tyson know how to swim?"  
"Hm?" Saeran glanced up, out of his own wallowing, to see his brother struggling to break free from the not-so-deep water with an air of something that almost looked like fear. "Now that you mention it, I can't recall ever seeing him swim."  
Sidhion chuckled and slid the arm on Saeran's shoulder around his waist. "Your concern is touching." He wondered if Saeran could swim. Saeran opened his mouth to comment on the scene unfolding on the other side of the pool, but found himself startled by Sidhion's handling. "Sidhion," he hissed, turning away from eye contact with anyone else at the pool. "People will notice." Through his protests, Saeran's ears were turning red.  
"You worry too easily. I'm sure you can handle any rumors about you the same way you did when we were in academy," Sidhion sniffed nostalgically, his eyes dancing with humor. He offered seductively, "If it bothers you, we could go somewhere more isolated... I don't mind." His fingers played with Saeran's bare skin.  
_Perhaps they weren't rumors after all_ thought Sidhion, as Tyson knocked some shmuck out of the pool away from the Kalinia girl.  
"I... that's not..." Saeran began to stammer uncomfortably the way Sidhion always made him. After all these years, he was the only one who could put him at a loss for words. He licked his dry lips in an attempt to regain his speech capability when he noticed Sidhion's attention elsewhere. "Oh." He wasn't sure what to think. Sure his brother was a brute, but never over a girl. Not like this.  
Sidhion laughed. "Well that one will stay with us for a while." Women really were the root of all problems. His eyes followed Saeran's tongue longingly. The scene across the way made Saeran angry the more he thought about it. What did he care about her for? And how? Did the treacherous minx resort to mind control to have his brother under her command? Saeran tried to remind himself it was not of his concern, and turned away, but only to realize Sidhion was wrapped around him, moving ever closer. With a sigh he put a hand on Sidhion's bare chest and pushed him gingerly away.  
For a moment, Saeran's face turned into his shoulder, and it was perfect. But Sidhion's ears fell as he was shoved away. Again. "You're so temperamental. Get over your brother and his broad," Sidhion returned to his place against the rock, folding his arms behind his head noncommittally.  
"My brother and his...pursuits have nothing to do with wanting or not wanting to have you hang all over me." Saeran muttered. The energy required to keep up his distant persona was drained from him, and he sighed in exhaustion. "I've been away a very long time. Can I just relax? And have a normal conversation with...an old friend?" he managed, facade faltering. Saeran tried to avoid expressions of fondness with Sidhion where possible. He usually overreacted. But he thought maybe this time it would be enough to keep him off his back. Literally.  
"I was referring to your 'vexed but pretending otherwise' expression, dear." At Saeran's request, however, Sidhion was silenced. He sunk down further into the water to hide his excitement at being referred to as Saeran's friend. It had been a long time since he'd been considered as such. As much as he loved to harass Saeran, he knew when to stop, and he chose to honor his friend's wishes.  
From the corner of his eye Saeran noticed Tyson storming out of the hot srping. That was love, all right. He examined his hands in the healing water rather than look on Sidhion's exposed torso and touched expression. "Business is well, I presume?" he said in a desperate attempt to divert the subject and his own thoughts.  
"If by well you mean struggling." Sidhion's entire demeanor shifted into one of subdued lament. "We aren't in danger. Yet. But with the war, we haven't been doing well. People aren't exactly interested in renovations or woodcarving right now. And though plenty of buildings have been destroyed in the farmlands and the outskirts of Mierta, we aren't in a safe enough place to even consider reconstruction. Let alone send workers out to be at risk." He huffed. "And what's worse, with my recently being named as acting head of the industry, my father is convinced the hard times are my own folly. He simply won't listen to reason." Saeran had missed his promotion. And the celebratory banquet that had followed. He wonder how Saeran would react to know that.  
Saeran's brow furrowed ever so slightly before he masked his emotion again. It was difficult to think that Stylmist Woodworks was anything but solid. Times had changed indeed. Now Sidhion ran the company directly and faced the disappointment of his father. Which Saeran could understand, even if he couldn't relate. "Yes, well," he said softly, "that's to be expected from a wartime economy. Demand shifts." A fancy way to express his sympathies.  
Sidhion would think Saeran didn't care, had he been anyone else. But no one could read his beloved better than him. And he smiled to himself, touched. He would throw his arms around Saeran if he hadn't just been asked not to. But he was oh so adorable when he was trying not to be affectionate. "Yes, well things will all turn around soon enough. I haven't been cultured for this position to let everything slip through my fingers. I mean, your brother is back to end the war, yes? Will Tyson be made a general? He'd certainly have it in him, if nothing else."  
That was the old Sidhion. Always positive. Saeran looked away, gazing disinterestedly at the other side of the pool. "I'm sure Vira plans on it." He chortled to himself. "Maybe he'll finally make something of himself, thanks to the war," he said less fondly.  
"Are you really so bitter to see him after so long?" Sidhion asked, partially curious. He knew they'd never gotten along well, particularly in the months leading up to Tyson's departure, but they were still brothers. And there had to be something in their century of siblinghood that made it worthwhile. The mention of Vira, however, was a stab to his heart. Though he knew she was their princess, and she was absolutely relevant in the conversation (for it was she who would decide what Tyson's duties were..), interpreting Saeran could backfire sometimes. Like now, when he could detect the slightest warmth at her memory, the slightest twitch of the lips, and the slightest tenderness in his voice when he spoke her name like some sacred oath. If only.. someday he looked away.  
Saeran sighed in exasperation. "Oh, Sidhion. He was bad before. Uncultured. Rude. Brutish. Now that he's been living amongst humans? It has only gotten worse." Saeran recalled the heavy blow to the face that Tyson had bequeathed in such a magnanimous moment of kinship. He'd done nothing but expect civility out of those brash humans, and his own brother had repayed him for his grace with five knuckles. He realized he was reaching up to touch his face where Tyson had punched him, but quickly covered it by leaning into his palm instead. "It's fortunate I came when I did, or he might have regressed to wearing fur and hunting to eat."  
Sidhion had been trying to play the supportive friend, but at Saeran's final statement, and the imagery brought to mind, it was too much. He burst out with an uncontrollable laughter and found himself gasping for breath.  
Saeran's brow furrowed as he moved slightly away from Sidhion. It wasn't THAT clever. But hearing Sidhion laugh uproariously brought back very old memories, of crafty pranks and sabotaging flower gardens and daredevil games. It had been a long time since he and Sidhion had anything to laugh like that over.  
Saeran rose to his feet before nostalgia got the better of him. "I think perhaps I should visit the private springs," he said, none too subtle in indicating this was not the relaxing evening he had in mind.  
Sidhion's inner alarm rung as he realized that yet again, he'd overstepped his boundaries with Saeran. He needed to act quickly or he would lose him. His laughter melted into an easy smile. "I can't help but want to catch up with you." Sidhion stood as well, just a breath away from Saeran, reveling in the few inches he'd always had over his friend. "If we go to the private springs, I promise I'll stay quiet. Just give me something else to do with my mouth," he whispered seductively, letting his fingers and eyes trail down Saeran's flawless chest.  
Saeran snatched at Sidhion's wrist with a desperate glance around the spring. With the beaten mess at the other side of the pool, no one seemed to care how handsy Sidhion got with him. He sighed, frustration evident in his voice, and brought his eyes back to Sidhion. Once he'd removed the roving hand from his chest, he let it slip from his fingers. "You were never one for subtlety," he muttered, as the memories continued to cloud his mind. Sure, Sidhion was innapropriate at the best of times and often made Saeran confused and upset, but as far as friends go, Saeran only ever had the one. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to have someone to talk to. Someone who could understand. Away from witnesses and gossippers. "I can't stop you from following me," he said, more softly, as he turned away from Sidhion and climbed out of the spring into the cold night air. It wasn't really an invitation, but he was fairly certain Sidhion would hear it as one.  
Sidhion's mood fell as once again physical contact was distastefully ended. He opened his mouth to whine when the next sentence hit his ears. And Sidhion's heart raced. Was that an invitation? That was absolutely an invitation. Skipping after Saeran, he made sure to stay two paces behind so that he could marvel at his flawless back. They ventured to the private springs in about a minute or so, which the noblest families had in reserve so that they could bathe away from the commoners. He was happy to be able to spend some alone time with the Nailo after so long, and as he watched Saeran's legs gracefully march to their solitude, he wondered if perhaps a little playing was out of the question..  
Saeran knew he'd come tagging along. He always did. But that didn't upset him somehow. Finally, after SO much mingling with lesser men than him, Saeran could be apart from the riff raff. He was happy to have a gentleman with him. Sidhion was no Princess Vira, but intellectual company nonetheless. "Please. Make yourself comfortable," Saeran said formally, gesturing to the springs.  
Sidhion practically giggled with delight at Saeran's romantic choice of phrasing. _I'd be the most comfortable if you'd join me._ he thought as he moved lithely to submerge himself at the far end of the heated water, silent safe for the quiet swishing. "Why thank you, Sir Nailo." Sidhion responded, bowing elegantly and leaning back, carefree. "But why so proper?" He gestured for his friend to join him so that they might talk better in the shallowed portion of the pool. "You do realize you've known me for over a century," he teased. "Please do not be intimidated by my family name and great fortune."  
Saeran took his time to arrange a towel near by and dip into the water, not too close to Sidhion, but not too far. Sidhion spoke like their relationship was the simplest thing in the world. They'd met closer to a century and a half ago, but Sidhion wasn't always around, and Saeran wasn't always appreciative. "As if you could intimidate me," Saeran scoffed in response, working his way into the spring with a smirk. What Saeran didn't say was that since he had brought Sidhion here, he should be treated as a guest. Sidhion knew that Saeran wanted his company, so it need not be said. Saeran also didn't have to tell his friend how those elegant, energetic movements that was so characteristic of Sidhion made him feel. "This is much nicer, isn't it?. Quite tranquil," Saeran said instead, in reference to the private springs. No peasants here to ruin his evening.  
He was in a lovely hot spring alone with Saeran. "Yes, it is nicer." Sidhion said dazedly, fixated on the image of Saeran trying to relax in the heat. He could still see a stiffness to Saeran that hadn't been there before his trip. He spent about a second deciding whether it was a good idea, and then stood and moved behind Saeran. He placed his hands on Saeran's shoulders and began to knead, pulling Saeran back into his seat when he tried to jerk away from him. "Quit fidgeting and let me do this."  
As usual, Sidhion was making him extremely uncomfortable, actually making his shoulders tense more. "I don't need-" Saeran began, before his friend's skilled hands rolled their way into the stiff muscles and Saeran lost his train of thought. Sidhion knew exactly what he was doing. Saeran reluctantly relaxed and leaned into the rolling hands. No one could see them here, after all. And it felt SO good.  
Sidhion grinned, and bit his tongue to keep from commenting. With decades of experience, he knew just where to press to make any man fall apart beneath his fingers. So he silently continued to work his hands, digging deeper and moving lower. He didn't care if Saeran would only ever let him touch him like this. He would give Saeran a million massages for nothing in return. He'd give Saeran anything. He'd already given him his heart. To keep his mind from traveling down that path. Again. He asked, "So what do you plan to do now? Your ambassador days are over I'm guessing. Are you going to try for a higher seat on the counsel?"  
"Yes," Saeran almost moaned. "I do not look forward to leaving the luxury of Holimion any time soon." He said it, but if Vira asked him to embark again he'd do it for her without a second thought. And just like that, his thoughts wandered to the beautiful smirking face of the most willful girl he'd ever met, and Saeran was reduced to sentimental daydreaming. Between thinking of his princess and Sidhion's hands on his back, he was in bliss. "Domestic politics suits me much better. I do miss the court," Saeran managed, though his voice was sightly rougher than usual. He wasn't specific about the certain individual in the court who he really missed. He'd see her soon. "I can hardly wait to hear about the mess they've created in my absence. Tell me, what has Vira been up to?" He said it in an aloof sort of way, trying not to reveal how desperate he was to know if she'd found a suitor to replace him. Sidhion loved to gossip after all.  
Sidhion was contently rubbing out the knots that had formed since he'd last seen his friend, only wishing he could do this more often, when Saeran uttered her name. And his motions stilled. And he clenched his teeth and tried not to react. He couldn't keep Saeran from loving her. He knew that. After an inaudibly shaky breath, he continued rubbing Saeran- HIS Saeran's shoulders. He just needed to be here. To prove that he always would be. To show that no one could care for him like Sidhion. He hoped the pause wouldn't arouse any suspicion, but one glance at Saeran's pleasure-drawn features told him otherwise. He chuckled. "Well without your powerful voice on her side, there has been a lot more opposition as of late. The elders are convinced she is a reckless general, as she is set on marching into the heart of goblin territory and striking them before they can get a proper defense together. The few times I've had the pleasure of sitting in on those council meetings, they've been all but tearing out each others throats, though I suspect Vira has considered it on more than one occasion. They haven't managed to come to a single decision." He rolled his eyes. "And Alok has been the worst of all of them. His weapons business is booming as a result of these attacks and Holimion's since fortification. I overheard a very interesting conversation between him and his wife," he leaned in and muttered, more for effect than fear of anyone hearing.  
Saeran smiled to himself once Sidhion continued rolling through his back. _Vira needs me,_ he deduced from Sidhion's testimony. Though probably not as much as he needed her. _I'll be there to rescue you shortly, my princess._ "Oh, really?" Saeran muttered, turning his head with a smirk to better hear the gossip. "Well go on. Don't keep secrets from me."  
Sidhion hesitated theatrically, as if not sure whether this was something for ears to hear. But it was all for play, as he smirked and continued his recollection. "Oh just something about letting the war run the Aldmaes out of power and leaving behind an empty throne. I suspect Vira has more enemies than we thought." He paused as he waited for his words to sink in. "Isn't it interesting just how much of Alok's factory work is being done here, in Mierta, and over in the outskirt towns- the ones that HAVEN'T been attacked, mind you? The steam is constantly pouring, the gears grinding, the blacksmiths hammering away. And yet somehow, we have a shortage of weapons and armor."  
Sidhion eyes were somewhere else, his fingers methodically circling as he mused. "This is just speculation, but there HAVE been an awful lot of exports as of late Why, with a little digging.." he left the rest to be implied.  
Saeran nodded slowly, expression serious. "Your insightfulness continues to impress me," he said, an exaggerated truth in return for his entertainment. His eyes slipped shut in a moment of relaxation while he pondered Sidhion's words. "Surely Alok cannot believe he has the support to take power. So then... who does he work for?" he muttered, more to himself than Sidhion.  
"Who indeed?" Sidhion let his hands dip down lower on Saeran's back and he applied even firmer pressure. He knew that Saeran loved conspiracies and puzzles, and was happy to provide them with what he'd painstakingly gathered in his wake. He didn't let on that it was a lot more difficult to get this information than he'd implied. They covered their tracks well. But he'd known something was off just by looking into Alok's eyes when the princess spoke. His fingers moved lower Saeran hummed as he contemplated and warm sensations roamed over his body. Goblins rarely organized for seiges like those most recent. If Alok's weapons were leaving the kingdom en mass, perhaps it was possible that the war was in fact carefully orchestrated... He opened his eyes as he realized Sidhion had finished working out his back muscles, and fell silent.  
Sidhion could see the excitement in Saeran's body, fully appeased, as his hands worked out the last of the pains in his back. He knew it was risky, but he figured he may never have an opportunity like this again. What did he have to lose? He moved on hand to Saeran's hip, rubbing small circles down into a his Saeran's thigh, looking for a spot to drive him crazy. He knew Saeran would enjoy these ministrations if for once he weren't so stubborn. He asked softly. "Is this okay?" _Don't pull away please._  
Saeran stayed silent. As a general rule, he wouldn't admit to Sidhion that those affectionate touches pleased him. Sidhion was certainly moving further than Saeran was usually comfortable allowing him to, but his hands were skilled and Saeran couldn't bring himself to move them away. So he opted for neither acquiencense nor denial, and simply sat up straighter.  
Sidhion had to keep from messing this up. He hadn't said no, and that was a victory on his part. He wanted to help Saeran relax- in every way. And maybe somewhere deeper in his mind, he knew that it couldn't hurt to have Saeran's mind connect him to the act of physical gratification. And he knew just how to touch His thumbs moved to a more sensitive area, working their magic that only decades of experience could provide, and he aptly watched Saeran's face as well as he could from this angle.  
Saeran exhaled slowly, trying to maintain control of the situation. He wasn't thinking straight. Sidhion had rubbed rational thought right out of him. Perhaps he'd been charmed. That was the only way that his heart would pound with such exitement as Sidhion's hands moved along his thigh. "Sidhion..." he managed to speak his name despite his confusion, almost an inquiry in itself.  
Sidhion's ears perked, and he knew that Saeran was aroused, if slightly. And his name sounded so sweet on those lips, even filled with uncertainty as it was. For once, Saeran was being unsure and without a scathing opinion one way or another. And Sidhion reveled in it. This was a very delicate situation that he would have to execute well. He pressed deeper, moving microscopically further towards Sidhion's inner thighs, waiting for him to get worked up, and for any remaining reason to leave his mind. "Just this once," he pleaded calmly. _Or whenever you ask me to._  
Saeran shuddered a breath, half wanting to stand up and demand that Sidhion leave the spring. His shoulders tensed again but he remained fixed at the side of the pool. Could it be so bad to indulge the both of them for one night? No one would have to know, after all, what happened between two gentlemen in the private springs. Saeran dared to turn and look into Sidhion's face, so full of desire, and it made him uneasy but it also made him wonder how it might feel, for once, to be loved without having to work so hard for it. "Perhaps..." Saeran murmured, looking at the soft lips of his friend (they did look rather feminine) "just... this once..."  
Sidhion nearly choked and he swore his heart stopped beating, but instead he stared deeply into those eyes, unwilling to look away, unwilling to blink. And Saeran's lips were so close yet so far. And he halved the distance between them, just to see if Saeran would suddenly lurch away, and hide his deliciously flushed face. He could feel the heat of Saeran's breath on his cheek now, and shuddered. Just the notion of a kiss was enough to daze him. But somehow he kept his hands roving over skin in all the right places with a practiced skill. When his counterpart didn't recoil at the closeness, he closed the distance gently, his eyes fluttering shut in the process.  
Saeran simply stared him down, unwavering in his refusal to confirm or deny his desires. But when their lips met, he pressed against Sidhion with verve. _Do what you must_ Saeran thought, because he was finally willing to see just what Sidhion would do to him.  
Sidhion could have DIED. Without breaking the kiss, he moved his body so he was in front of Saeran, kissing back with every bit as much fervor. He explored the sweet insides of Saeran's mouth letting no time go to waste, for who knew how many decades it would be before he convinced his love to let him do this again? He let his hand brush over Saeran's regions with just the right amount of lightless to be feigned as ignorance, and waited for Saeran's body to react.  
The way Saeran's heart jolted wasn't fair. Sidhion was practically in his lap, manipulating his mouth and touching him deliberately, even if he pretended it was an accident. But Saeran didn't care any more. He even pressed his chest closer to Sidhion's. The kiss was just as energetic as it was nearly seventy years ago, when Saeran finally allowed Sidhion access to his lips. The same night he fell, irrevocably, for Vira. How far they'd come since then...  
Sidhion was pleasantly surprised to find Saeran more than willing, as if some switch had been flipped inside of him. And he knew he had to take this chance before Saeran changed his mind. With them pressed even closer now, it was easy to trail his gifted hands up Saeran's built chest (not bulging with overly enlarged muscles like his brother's, but muscular and refined to perfection) and over his shoulders. How he loved finally having permission to TOUCH, like he'd dreamt of for so long. With Saeran's now apparent 'excitement', Sidhion more confidently returned his hands to Saeran's inner thighs, applying every ounce of experience he had with pleasing a man, and studying Saeran's face. He yearned to tell Saeran what he meant to him, but didn't dare speak for fear of breaking the spell.  
Saeran was losing himself. The soft lips and gentle hands allowed him almost to forget, until he opened his eyes to Sidhion's shameless smile. _What sort of mistake am I making?_ he thought, though the eager motions of his companion's hands made the vicious tongue of gossip seem less relevent. There was a real tongue right in front of him, soft and warm and lively. Sidhion had no fear, no shame, though this sort of affair in their families would resound in the halls of Holimion, if ever it was discovered. But for tonight, it was only them. Saeran would be lying if he told himself it didn't feel incredible to be with Sidhion, not that he would allow his face to show it. Breathless, Saeran leaned forward and cast his hand into Sidhion's hair, pulling him close for a kiss he couldn't deny desiring.  
Sidhion gasped as his hair was tugged, emitting a small squeak before hungry lips found his and it turned into a low moan. Of course, he melted into the embrace, giving as much as Saeran wanted to take. He couldn't hear much else over his own heart, but he hoped Saeran's was similarly racing. His fingers danced along the waistband of Saeran's suit, hooking inside and sliding down gradually but steadily to allow Saeran time to shove him away. _Oh Tina, please.._  
Saeran would have ripped the suit off if it hadn't been custom tailored. Instead he put his hands over Sidhion's and sped up the process. He couldn't wait any longer to find out just how talented Sidhion could be, or what he would to to his old friend now that Saeran was giving in. There was so much passion in every flick of his fingers, every twitch of his lips. _Just take me._

xxx

Sidhion watched Saeran fondly and, with a gentle smile, propped up his head on his elbow. "How was it?"  
Saeran took a few breaths, eyes closed, before replying. Then he cleared his throat and rose slowly to a sitting position. "That was..." He opened his eyes and was surprised by the sight of a handsome, smiling Sidhion in front of him. He hadn't forgotton who his partner was in this act, but he didn't expect so much affection in his eyes at the end. He quickly avoided looking into them. "impressive," Saeran admitted.  
Genuine compliments from Saeran were few, but he tried not to let triumph show from the simple words. Instead he chuckled and slyly responded, "I know." He sat up himself, but found Saeran avoiding eye contact. He sighed softly, handing Saeran his bathing suit and running his hands through his tousled hair in attempts to fix it. Sidhion himself was still very excited, but he wouldn't ask anything. He maneuvered himself to be seated beside Saeran facing the waters, slightly less graceful than he would normally. "Are you charmed?" he teased, trying to get a read on his friend.  
Saeran chuckled and glanced at the ground as it began to fade to silt, instead of at his unusual bedfellow. "I don't know, am I?" he asked with a smirk, recovering his pants. _It would explain a lot if I was enchanted..._  
"Of course not," Sidhion sniffed indignantly. His thoughts were so much more lucid now that he didn't have to maintain an illusion, but he was concerned. "As I said before, I don't need tricks to convince a man to lay with me." _Why won't you look at me?_ "Saeran," he said seriously then. Was it really so mortifying that he couldn't look him in the eye?  
Saeran clenched his teeth. The regret was starting to settle. _What have I just done?_ If anyone found out, the gossip about his family would be feirce. If Vira found out...she would never take him seriously again. Finally he raised his gaze to Sidhion's face, trying to hide his uneasiness.  
And there it was. The uncertainly, remorse, possibly guilt.. All of the things he didn't need to see after making himself emotionally vulnerable to Saeran. A mistake. He blinked, and gave his cheerful signature smile, expertly hiding any sadness he actually felt. "It never happened," he promised. _If you want to forget, I'll pretend to not remember._  
If there was one living creature that Saeran could trust to keep its word, it was Sidhion Stylmist. Saeran blew a breath through his nose. "I appreciate your discretion," he said softly. The friendly smile he'd known so well brought him a little comfort, and he smirked himself. This little rendezvous, like so many of Saeran's secrets, would soon be long forgotten. But Saeran's heart was pounding and there was sweat on his brow that had nothing to do with the hot spring- sure enough, it happened, and it felt too amazing to ignore. No, he didn't want to forget. He wanted to remember. And he knew this wouldn't be the last time Sidhion got him on his own. Saeran could keep him, and no one would be any the wiser.  
"This one will stay our little secret." Finally, Saeran met Sidhion's eyes, and watched the dance behind them.  
How many secrets did this make? As Saeran's only true confidant, Sidhion prided himself in the knowledge that there was very little about Saeran Nailo that he did not know.  
"As you wish," he agreed. He himself didn't regret a thing. Because Saeran had most definitely enjoyed it, and he remained in Sidhion's company even now, partially composed with a perfect tint to his cheeks. He finally looked like he wasn't shouldering some large, burdensome object- something he was sure Saeran would appreciate. "If you ever want some assistance relaxing, feel free to ask," he winked suggestively and laid back on the ground, humming some light tune from their childhood.  
With an amused snort, Saeran propped himself on his arm and leaned over Sidhion. "Oh, I'll let you know," he whispered with a devilish smile. Saeran knew he could call on him whenever he wished. Sidhion would never say no. He always promised to be there when Saeran needed him, after all. _You're mine,_ he thought to himself, and it was a pleasing thought. Sidhion was his oldest companion, favorite partner in crime, and now, dirty little secret.  
Sidhion had to double-take. _Excuse me?_ He swallowed visibly, suddenly wondering why his mouth was so dry. Why was it that Saeran Nailo could undo him with a single sentence? That killer smile was dripping with salacious implication, and he found his stomach turning oddly. _If he wasn't so darned close_ Sidhion took a deep breath. "My, my.. I'll make a profligate of you yet," Sidhion teased after a delayed pause, atypical to his usual wit. If Saeran was serious, he could have Sidhion. He already did.  
Saeran's smile grew. How fantastic it felt to disarm Sidhion when he addled Saeran all day every day. Saeran found one of his fingers trailing idly along Sidhion's chest as he finally looked in his eyes. _I could grow found of that face,_ the thought sprung in his head. _Assuming it feels like THAT every time._ "What a scandal, you and I," Saeran chided, voice smooth as silk.  
Sidhion fidgeted under the painfully light touch, unable to look away from Saeran's toying eyes. "If you see it that way," he managed, his own intermittent speech a great contrast to Saeran's honeyed words. _Compose, compose, compose._ "As if half the court isn't guilty of considerably worse misconduct," he mentioned. He flinched as Saeran touched a particularly sensitive region on his bare chest and tore his eyes away from Saeran's almost diffidently.  
Maybe Sidhion had started this impropriety, but Saeran could take control of him whenever he wanted. Saeran glided his hand away with a superior chuckle as Sidhion apparently couldn't handle it. "But they'll never know," he muttered, almost as a command. They could spend months, years like this- asserting his desires in a crowded courtroom with only a moment of meaningful eye contact. He had that bond with Sidhion still from long ago. If only he had taken advantage of it before...  
"No," Sidhion said firmly. "No one but you and I." His heart was racing, and he was almost sure Saeran had put HIM under some sort of enchantment. But that was silly. His eyes roved over Saeran's flawless physique appreciatively. "Whenever you'll have me," he said softly. He felt like he had just sworn away part of his soul with that promise. It seemed as if this would not be their last night spent together after all. He knew that glint in Saeran's eye, and it meant he was forming plans. Possibly dishonest or manipulative plans (usually, rather), but some sort of idea that Sidhion was itching to find out. And support, as he always did for his delightfully crafty friend.  
_Mine for the taking._ Saeran thought wickedly. He ran his hand along Sidhion's cheek, so recently working for his pleasure, and took his chin with a confident smirk. "I think it would be acceptable for you to stop by the Nailo estate when next you see fit," he said cordially. Then Saeran dropped his hand and stood elegently to his feet. "But not tonight. I think it best if I retire now. Alone."  
_An invitation?_ How perfect this night was turning out. He chuckled then, not out of humor so much as mirth. It seems that he truly HAD impressed Saeran Nailo. Of course, he had been utterly truthful in that his skill was unmatched. "I shall." He watched as Saeran stood up and bid himself off, telling Sidhion with no uncertain terms to remain. He didn't mind, however. His head was still spinning with this turn of events. "Very well. I have business to attend to before my meeting tomorrow afternoon regardless," he said businesslike. He brought himself to his own height, as always just taller than his counterpart, and said amiably, "Good night, Saeran."  
Saeran looked in his eyes for a moment. He looked awfully happy about the prospect of being used over and over again. Was he missing something in this deal? Saeran supposed his use of words was so well-chosen that it actually sounded appealing to Sidhion to be on call for his satisfction. But now there were no words left to say. Sidhion would simply look in his eyes and read his mind anyway. So Saeran simply nodded formerly in farewell, then turned to reclaim his towel and take his leave.  
His mind was absent as he took the short return to Nailo Manor. His thoughts drifted over and over to the sensual twilight he'd spent at the hotsprings with one amazing young man. If Sidhion applied himself to women, he could have the lot. He could chose anyone. But he insisted on the lifestyle of a confirmed bachelor, and Saeran could hardly understand why. Perhaps Sidhion, too, fell in love once since confessing his first convoluted feelings to Saeran. His stomach lurched to think- but no, it couln't be- that Sidhion had never fallen for anyone but him.  
Saeran found his way into the manor, striding regally past the night crew of servants, many who greeted him with fiegned excitement which recieved no reply. Saeran was preoccupied reliving Sidhion's smooth, strong hands and the desperate longing in his eyes. He hardly stopped to look around the home at all until he ascended the stairs to his and Tyson's quarters, when he noticed dimly that Tyson left his door open. _How unrefined of the brute,_ Saeran's thoughts hissed mercilessly. Tyson brought a girl home, even, and left the door open for all the world to veiw him and his whore wrapped in the bedsheets. Saeran glanced inside to pass a judgmental frown on Tyson's sleeping body when-

No.

No, it couldn't be. He wouldn't.

But he did. There was only one girl in all of Holimion with red hair so long and wild. Saeran staggered away from the doorway, sickened and unable to be anywhere near the bed in which his brother had sinned so deeply. He strode, in a fury, down the hall to his own room, though now he doubted he could find the peace of mind to sleep.


	20. Puppet

Tyson stretched as his body told him he was recharged, and he wouldn't feel any better lying around. He heard a soft sigh next to him and found Jennessa's exposed and sleeping form. Last night came rushing back to him and he stroked her wild hair from her face to get a better look. She looked exhausted still. He imagined she would be worn out, after a day like yesterday. How long had they been sleeping? With all the stealth of a sleepy warrior, Tyson rolled off the mattress to place his bare feet on the polished floor. Rubbing his eyes, he stood and found a pair of pants before making his way to the sitting room for a breakfast already prepared by the many servants. To his unpleasant surprise, Saeran was already seated at the ornate table, sipping on a hot beverage of some sort and looking like he had quite a bit he wanted to say. Tyson stopped mid-step and almost pivoted, almost, and walked right back out of the room. But Saeran had seen him, and he was hungry, and he knew that Jennessa needed her sleep for her spells or whatever, so he slumped down in a seat far away from his sibling and grabbed a slice of toast without so much as a nod of greeting.

Saeran did not relax into his elegant chair, but simply bore his eyes into Tyson with a disgusted, disappointed gaze. "Tyson," he said, a greeting, an opening, as affable as he was going to get. He then set down his teacup and laced his fingers to gaze across the table at his impetuous brother. "We need to have a few words. In particular, about the harlot you have naked upstairs." The anger in his voice was obvious, but controlled, and he chose such crude words partially to make Tyson painfully aware of his crime, and also because it was possible he wouldn't understand anything but vulgarity.

"Don't call her that," Tyson growled, glowering. He certainly didn't have the patience he used to when dealing with Saeran. Now it seemed that everything that came out of his mouth just made Tyson want to punch him. Ever since Jennessa showed him he could stand up to Saeran- that he could STOP his brother in his tracks, his entire outlook has been different. Unfortunately, Saeran coming home and seeing him and Jennessa wrapped together was one of the last things on his mind when he was too impatient to close the door… "You don't know anything about her." Harlot was one word that could not be associated with someone so caring and innocent.

Saeran raised his eyebrows. "I know enough." he hissed. "I know she tried to murder me. Did you forget that? Like you forgot what she _really_ is?" Saeran was shocked to see his brother actually defending the broad.

"Many have tried worse in the past." Saying Saeran Naïlo rubbed many the wrong way was an understatement if he'd ever heard one. "I haven't forgotten anything. Just as I haven't forgotten were to have me killed." _What you say has no sway over me anymore._

"Oh, don't be so melodramatic. You weren't going to die." Saeran dropped his arms and leaned across the table, finally unfolding his legs. His posture was merciless-all business. "What do you think you're going to accomplish, Tyson?" he sneered. "She cannot be faithful to you. She doesn't have the capacity to care about you. Your relationship is a business arrangement. Keep it that way."

How many times had Saeran sat him down like this to discuss his behavior? "It's no business of yours if I lie with her one night, or many. But she isn't a business arrangement. She cares for me," Tyson said simply. She may be the only living creature in the world that did. She was his comrade. They'd seen battle together more often than Saeran could even imagine. "What do you mean I wasn't going to die?" _Is anything you say truthful?_

_Many?_ "All you had to do was acquiesce. Just come home, to end the silly threats," Stubborn little brat probably never would have agreed, but perhaps the gallows around his neck would make him fonder of home. Saeran lowered his voice in controlled fury. "Do you realize you could create a half-breed?"

Tyson froze for a second. He hadn't even considered the possibility of conceiving... but then, he'd never had to worry about it before. Whorehouses took care of taking preventative measures. But as he'd said before, Jennessa was no harlot… He wondered if he should ask about this. "I'm not trying to reproduce with her. I spent a night with her," he argued. "I have a war to worry about." He was quite close to storming out of the room.

"Then I suggest you keep your focus on that." Saeran picked up his tea delicately, keeping his eyes boring into his headstrong brother. "Instead of lying with the slave. Honestly, Tyson, there are less reckless ways to satisfy your urges," he said, pausing for a self-entitled sip.

Tyson stood up then and did storm out, knocking Saeran's tea out of his hands as he passed him. He needed to cool off. He nearly slammed into someone on his way, and he turned to mutter an 'excuse me' to whichever servant it was.

"My you seem upset," responded a cheery Sidhion.

Tyson stared at him for a second before exiting Naïlo estate. Jennessa would be fine for a few hours.

It was oddly nostalgic to see Tyson Naïlo stomping out of his home again after so long. Sidhion turned and let himself into the parlor, where Saeran was too preoccupied to have noticed his entrance. "Spill your tea?" he asked carelessly while his heart jumped at seeing Saeran again so soon.

Saeran glared in response. His brother wasn't around to direct his anger at, so all that remained was Sidhion. "Not so much," he muttered. Saeran was only trying to help Tyson before he ruined their name and his own life, but his brotherly guidance always fell on unwilling ears.

Sidhion chuckled before slipping into a seat nearby. "Do I want to know?" Naturally, he was completely unaffected by Saeran's anger, but thought he was give Saeran the option to talk about it. "He's not even wearing a shirt. You really have a knack for setting him off, don't you?"

Saeran shook his head with a frustrated sigh. "Never mind him." Tyson wasn't listening to his reasoning. He'd probably be with the girl again tonight if Saeran couldn't stop him. He needed a plan... He glanced at Sidhion, who looked tremendously excited to see him. It hadn't been long at all since they'd visited the hot springs together. "I trust no one saw you on your way here?"

"Save your volatile sibling, no one," Sidhion replied. He could be incredibly elusive when he needed to, with the help of his charms. Fortunately, with his track record, few bothered to keep an eye on him anyhow. It was odd to him, having to been to the Naïlo's' home thousands of times, having to operate with secrecy. The only times he ever conducted himself as such was in one of Saeran's schemes. He studied his friend's expression, hoping to glean some inking of what was on his mind at this point in time.

_Then once more, you're all mine._ Saeran gave a satisfied nod. The memory of last night, coupled with the reassurance of their security, was starting to make him excited to see Sidhion as well. There was only one thing he could have come here for, of course. "The guestroom ought to be empty," he said, voice low.

And immediately. The voice sent shivers down his spine. So it hadn't been a dream. He quirked a brow. "In a hurry?" he teased quietly. "I hope you haven't been thinking of me this whole time." Which was a lie. All the same, he stood from the table and pulled Saeran to his feet, letting his fingers linger as always, and dance up to his shoulder. Now that his advances were being welcomed, he was simply chipper. He could hardly wait to see Saeran fall apart beneath him again. After so many years of forming a wall and keeping his guard up, these rare moments of vulnerability were a sight to behold.

A devilish smirk spread across Saeran's face as he was gently touched by Sidhion. Perhaps a little romancing was in order after all. He locked eyes with Sidhion for a moment, then seized his waist and brought him closer, savoring the startled look in his eyes. _I could make your wildest dreams come true with a flick of my tongue,_ he thought, leaning close to Sidhion and closing his eyes.

Sidhion started as he was quickly pulled close- so close- to Saeran, and his eyes fluttered shut as those perfect lips approached his own.

"Better yet..."

Then he heard the crash of dishes to the floor and nearly fell back if not for the strong supporting arm still wrapped possessively around his waist. In the blink of an eye Saeran swept the table clear with his arm and kept the other wrapped around Sidhion. Then he drew his companion in and spun him to sit where he and his brother were fighting not so long ago. Saeran reveled in the taboo of the whole situation.

"Ah-" Sidhion managed, wide-eyed as he was quickly manipulated onto the piece of furniture with Saeran looming proudly above him. Oh the single image was so provocative…

"A-Are you mad?" he said, partly appalled at the sheer brutish nature of the action and the possibility that a servant or Tyson could walk in at any moment. They couldn't do this here… could they? But as he was awkwardly propped and vulnerable before sin himself in this position, he found himself utterly embarrassed with his cheeks on fire. He'd done a lot, but this... And Saeran was operating so forcefully, like he really truly finally WANTED him, and Sidhion just didn't know how to deal with it yet.

Saeran couldn't stop smiling at his flustered friend. "Mad? No, Sidhion. I simply love to see you blush," he muttered, voice lucid. For once he was speaking honestly. Taking control of Sidhion required more effort than most of his other prey, but it was far from a challenge Saeran Naïlo couldn't handle. His hand took Sidhion's knee and ventured up his thigh as Saeran leaned further over the table. "If it's too much for you," he said with a villainous twinkle in his eye, "just tell me to stop." As if that were even possible.

"Oh come now. As if you've ever been too much for me to deal with." Sidhion huffed and turned his face away, willing himself to calm down. How easily he could be wrapped up in Saeran's words. And then that hand took his knee, and glided up his leg dangerously, and he uttered the slightest of sounds before he bit his tongue. He blew a breath and managed to catch his heart and his mind that was quickly melting away. Unfortunately, he was sure his face was still betraying him. "When you suggested we operate surreptitiously, this was not what I had in mind." It was becoming ever so difficult to maintain his air of experience when his innermost fantasies were coming true before his eyes. How the planes had shifted. "Not that I mind, terribly," Sidhion said with a sultry smile. _My turn._ He hooked his leg around Saeran's waist, pulling him intimately closer then. Enough to give him access to Saeran's succulent neck whilst his fingers eagerly played with Saeran's shirt fastenings.

Saeran's skin prickled at the touch. _This is what I wanted,_ he thought to himself, so he lowered Sidhion to lie on the table and used his arms instead to climb over him. There was no denial now of what act they were committing. But Tyson would avoid him at all costs for the day, and servants could be disposed of. "I'm sure with our combined influence, we have enough tricks up our sleeves..." and he ran a hand up Sidhion's arm and lingered at the ties on his collar as he whispered his soft, seductive words, "to get away with just about anything we please."

Jennessa had spent enough time sleeping in tents in the dangerous, unknown wilderness to become a cautiously light sleeper. So when a few floors below her, fine porcelain shattered, she stirred with a sharp intake of breath.

The woman (for she couldn't be called a maiden any more) forced her eyes open and felt her heart surge to find she'd awoken in Tyson's bedroom. A smile came to her lips as she recalled the wonderful night before. He was with her. He loved her. It was just the two of them and that's how he wanted it, too.

Jennessa covered her breast with the incredibly smooth sheets and rolled to greet Tyson for the day, but she discovered with a plummeting feeling that he was no longer in the bed with her. "Oh," she said softly, addressing no one but herself. She ran her fingers through her wild, tousled hair and grasped at explanations that didn't shake her to her core. Surely he'd slept his fill long ago and was out preparing for battle, fencing or training, consulting the Princess, or maybe just praying. Still Jennessa wished that her love had stayed in bed long enough to see her in the morning. With a heavy sigh, she ran her hand over the wrinkled silhouette where he'd laid, and rolled away herself. Then more chaos came from downstairs; a much louder clattering of eatery, and some unfamiliar voice calling, "Are you mad?" Jennessa's heart raced; something very bad was happening in Tyson's house and she had to do something. Quickly she donned the first clean clothes she could find, straightened her hair as best she could, and tiptoed out of Tyson's room, crossbow at her side.

Sidhion let himself be laid out to Saeran's will, more than comfortable with this position. The furniture choice was still a bit racy, but he reveled in the choice. Saeran hovered over him now, and he could feel the heat emanating between them, and it was doing wondrous things to him. The warm whisper of breath tickling his ear was glorious, and his eyelids fluttered.

"And then some," he purred. "It wouldn't be the first ti-ime we'd gotten ourselves out of mischief. Or gotten YOU out, I should say." When they were children, they could charm their way out of skipping class, bartering goods, and giving clever comments to even the noblest at dinner parties with ease. And still, they came across as delightful angels that people admired and envied. He snapped back to the present when Saeran's fingers touched his collar, and he took the initiative to remove the article of clothing himself (the ties could be complicated, and it was a lovely piece). Dropping it gently on the chair he'd pulled out, he turned his eyes, bright with excitement, back to Saeran. "You really are such a troublemaker, you know."

Sidhion's enthusiasm was charming. Maybe just this once, Saeran would indulge him. He danced his fingers along Sidhion's bare chest and took his cheek. "I'm not all bad, am I?" he whispered coyly, looking gently into those eyes that shone for him, and slowly, obligingly, lowered himself into a kiss.

Giving Saeran's body a meaningful look and leaning into Saeran's palm, Sidhion whispered, "I can't wait to find out." And then for the first time since the night before, their lips touched, and the familiar sparks of passion swam through him. Lifting a hand to tangle into the wavy softness of Saeran's hair, Sidhion pulled him closer and delved deeper into the kiss. Saeran's body pressed against his own, his weight welcomed, and the layer of cloth between them had never been more aggravating. He slid his hand up Saeran's side and smoothly into his shirt to feel the warm skin that he required much more access to, running his fingers greedily along his chest. _Have me._

Saeran was once again surprised by how right it felt to touch and kiss and press against Sidhion. He wasted none of the sensation, and gently but firmly guided Sidhion's hand lower, down his chest. _You know what do to,_ he thought, and nothing could be truer. His heart was racing, his body heating up, and he refused to let Sidhion's lips free lest they cease working for him.

Jennessa cautiously walked the halls of Naïlo manor. She wore one of Tyson's tunics, grass-colored, big enough on her to pass for a dress though it hung off her shoulder. Hanging from a borrowed belt was her ebon crossbow, and Jennessa's fingertips danced warily on its holster as she investigated the source of the commotion. It had to be coming from the dining room. It seemed mostly quiet now, but there could be some villain lurking in the corner to rob Tyson's family, or worse. With a steadying breath, Jennessa sprung into the doorway, but the sight in front of her was so unexpected that she forgot to draw her weapon. "What?" A confused squeak escaped her. She was completely floored by the scene in the dining room; it took her a few solid blinks to really take in the fact that there were two young elves lying on the dining room table. Doing what?

_Oh, can he kiss._ Sidhion's hand was moved downward, and he hummed understandingly. He slipped his hand free for a moment, missing the feel of Saeran's flesh immediately, so that he could expertly undo the fastenings of Saeran's pants with one hand. Then with all the grace that his decades of pleasure had provided him, he slipped his hand down.

Suddenly, he heard a scuffle and a female voice rang out, and his eyes flew open as he tried to detangle himself. Apparently in their lustful throws, they'd slid along the polished surface so that they were no longer in the center. As such, in his alarm, Sidhion managed to lose balance and roll himself off of the dining table, landing with a squeak on the plush rug. He stood cautiously, standing behind Saeran, to see the perpetrator. A redheaded young woman stood in the doorway, confusion etched in her features. She looked slightly familiar, but he was currently too mortified to place her, so he simply waited for Saeran to speak. She appeared to be wearing a Naïlo dress tunic, so she'd spent the night. _But in whose company?_ His eyes narrowed suspiciously.

With all the grace of a man who had been caught deflowering many things he never should have been deflowering, Saeran flew away from his partner and ran one hand through his hair and the other swiftly tugged his doublet lower, to cover the loose top of his trousers and the incriminating lump. He cast his gaze, fury and frustration expertly masked, to whatever foolish girl had interrupted his treat. _Of course it would be you._ "Elawyn," he managed to keep the rasp in his voice to a minimum, but he cleared it immediately after identifying the intruder. He did not account for her, and now he was stalling while he struggled to figure a plan for correcting this hole in his defense. He couldn't make her disappear; she was too well-known by now. She was too righteous to be bribed. Saeran needed a plot, QUICK.

"Saeran?" Jennessa was hopelessly confused. "Were you... fighting? You're bad at that." She glanced around the dining room for some sort of hints to the puzzle before her. He was grappling with a shirtless man, but they no longer seemed to be hostile. There was shattered china and glass all over the floor, and some food and drink too. Jennessa tilted her head, perplexed, at Saeran. He wasn't trustworthy, but she needed some sort of explanation for anything about this morning to make sense.

Sidhion tried to calm himself, but clearly Saeran and this woman knew each other. If she had simply been Tyson's entertainment for the night, Saeran would have nothing to do with her. And yet Sidhion himself had never seen her… Sidhion straightened. Regardless. Saeran was his, and his alone. He would not be sharing with a lowly trollop. And here Saeran was acting as if he hadn't just been entwined with him. The gall...

Putting on a smile filled with venom, Sidhion stepped forth. "Are you lost, miss? The exit is down that hall." _Your work here is done. Now be a good girl and take your leave._ "I hope you weren't expecting breakfast." Why was she simply standing there foolishly? Surely she knew her place. He would deal with Saeran upon her leave, but for now she was utterly obliterating his morning. Was this the reason Saeran sent him away after he'd been pleasured?

Jennessa started, but bounced back. She wouldn't be kicked out of Tyson's house by... a home invader?

Saeran nearly reached out to take Sidhion's shoulder and stop him, but he still didn't know what to say to Jennessa to make her disappear and Sidhion was buying time. So he decided to let things play out for a bit, until they got nearly out of hand.

"I'm not lost..." Jennessa managed. The shirtless one she didn't know was being strangely curt. "I heard someone yell. Was it you?" She glanced from him to Saeran, who was no help at all, but apparently lost in thought at such an odd time. Cautiously, Jennessa stepped forward and took the shirt that was draped over a chair and handed it to the unfamiliar blond. _Maybe he's upset because he's cold and lost his shirt. Don't worry. It's right here._

Sidhion inhaled quickly as he was handed his own clothing. _How dare she..._ "Perhaps," he said as he snatched it from her. She was acting like a lost child, and quickly killing the mood Saeran had set by being so frivolously romantic. What's worse was the absolute lack of recognition. Did she not know who he was? "I assure you I am fine. You needn't be alarmed." Clearly she couldn't take a hint. He decided to be a bit more forward. "There's nothing here that concerns you," he said coolly. "Please leave. Your clothing can be cleaned and sent to you." Saeran was much too good for so dense a broad. He shot him a look that said so.

Saeran's eyes widened. Could it be that she...? This could be simple. She had no clue what she'd walked in on. Fool. She was a human after all. Jennessa's face turned from hurt to indignant and she opened her mouth to say something fierce when Saeran sprung to action again and stepped between the two of them. "How unforgivably rude of me not to introduce you two. Sidhion, this is" he turned to the man and looked him meaningfully in the eye, "Elawyn Kalinia." _You know, my brother's fabled lover probably come to murder Vira. That girl. Calm down._ "Elawyn, this is an old friend of mine, Sidhion Stilmyst." He turned to Jennessa to at last relieve the confusion in her face. "He's in perfect health once more, and there is no need to worry. In our panic we must have awoken you, and for that too I am sorry. All is well."

Elawyn... _Oh, how silly of me._ Immediately, he remembered where he'd seen that face. At the hot springs where the drama that always seemed to follow Tyson had taken place. His shoulders dropped with relief, and he shook himself free of his misgivings. She had been with Tyson. "Oh dear, I had you for someone else. Please excuse my rudeness," Sidhion apologized. "And my indecency." He slipped his shirt over his head, and then bowed in greeting. "A pleasure to meet you Miss Kalinia." With a glance to the shattered dishes, he said, "I can be so clumsy at times. Had I only know you were asleep... I wish we had more proper circumstances."

The fire in Jennessa's eyes cooled again, and she curtseyed reluctantly. "We sort of got off to a bad start..." _Maybe we can still be friends._

Saeran tutted and looked at Sidhion solemnly. "There's no need to lie to Ms. Kalinia. She needs to know the truth." Saeran looked away from Sidhion with an overly heavy sigh, and looked at Jennessa with dire importance. "Someone attempted to poison him. Right here at our own table."

Jennessa gasped. It all made sense. "No..."

Saeran nodded seriously. "It was slipped in his tea. Naturally when I noticed I knocked it from his hand, and hastened to check his vital signs. I nearly lost him to this damned war..."

Sidhion nearly snorted at the absurd lie, but that would be to ruin the cleverly crafted invention of his love's. He would play along. "I don't know what I would have done. Certainly I wouldn't be standing here." He shuddered for good measure. "To think, they're attacking nobles now. Please operate with the utmost caution," he pressed gravely. "We're safe now, but it only takes letting your guard down once. And then..." he looked at the floor grimly. "Please excuse me." He moved to sit in a recliner across the room, facing away as he 'composed' himself. That was Saeran's cue to dismiss her.

"Oh, you had better lie down." Saeran rushed to lift Sidhion from his chair, grazing his skin not-so-accidentally. "You should be undisturbed in the guest bedroom. I'll be in in a moment to check up on you." Confident his meaning came across, Saeran gave Sidhion a gentle push in the direction of the guestroom and turned his attention to Jennessa.

Sidhion gave Saeran the slightest of smirks before feigning weariness and heading off toward the indicated room with a simple "yes, thank you." He let himself into a guest bedroom that he'd stayed in a few times, when it was too late for him to consider returning home (since he'd confessed his feelings to Saeran and had to be kept away). He grinned to think that the very thing that made Saeran send him away to a guest bedroom in the first place is the reason he was here now. He removed his shirt again, folding it up, and then laid out on the bed, humming patiently. Oh how happy he was to know she had been Tyson's.

Jennessa, shocked, was processing the morning's happenings. She could understand the poisoned tea on the floor, and Sidhion's shout seemed a natural reaction, before the poison settled in at least. Apparently there were people Saeran Naïlo cared about, if he feared losing his friend enough to rip his shirt off to listen for a heartbeat and attempt oral resuscitation. It was touching, really. Jennessa didn't really understand why he felt he needed the whole table, but he was sort of an overdramatic man to begin with. And Sidhion was understandably mistrusting- she could have been the traitor spiking his drink from the start. Noblemen were being assassinated. How did the traitors know whose tea they were sabotaging? "Have you seen Tyson?" Jennessa asked forwardly.

Saeran was tucking chairs back in, feigning an air of carelessness. "Why yes, I believe I saw him stomping about. Why-?" And then he looked at Jennessa, and seemed to really take her in for the first time of the day. "Is that... Tyson's tunic?"

Jennessa avoided eye contact, but her burning cheeks told the whole story. "Uhm. Yes. Why?"

"Oh, dear..." Saeran approached her, pity in his eyes. "I should have warned you earlier. Before it was too late..."

"Warned me about what?"

Saeran was disgusted at the thought. But outwardly, he appeared only sympathetic. "Tyson's... record." He cast a look around theatrically and gestured to the chairs. "You may want to sit down for this." Placing his hand on the small of her back, he led her to a seat. She looked at him worriedly. Oh, how he loved when people believed his every word.

Seating himself across from her, he leaned forward. "You see, Tyson is a very… promiscuous man. I'm sure you've at least heard mention of his conquests at houses of ill repute." He looked into her eyes sadly, waiting for a nod of confirmation before continuing. "He can't be satisfied. It's devastating, really. I've tried to help him. To teach him that there's more to women than just their body, and what they can offer in a night." He shook his head. "He doesn't understand. Or he doesn't care enough to try." He'd built up accordingly, and now he looked at her with his most serious expression, taking her hand and squeezing it. "He's using you. He doesn't love you." _This is for your own good, brother. You simply cannot go on sleeping with swine as if they are women._

Jennessa stared at Saeran, face pale. Tyson warned her that he was a liar, a very good one at that. And she didn't want to believe what he was saying was true, but somehow all the evidence built up in his favor. The way Tyson threw her impatiently on the bed, and how in the morning after their passionate night he was nowhere to be found. She wasn't his girlfriend, she was a toy. Jennessa hugged her legs, subconsciously covering up the body that felt so violated, and struggled not to let tears fall. "Oh," she said softly, gripping Saeran's hand. He didn't love her, he wanted to possess her. And she ran into his arms anyway, even after what he did to Eryndor. It was nothing but lies. How many times had Tyson done this to naive girls before? How could he? Was he not so great a man after all? She didn't want to fall apart, but her heart was breaking right in front of Saeran. To think that she almost confessed her love for him last night... And just like that, Jennessa's composure broke. She sobbed first into her knees, unable to stop herself, and then threw herself into Saeran's shoulder, the only comforting soul in her world.

Saeran tutted, handing patting the hand that was so desperately gripping his own. He could see her tears a mile away, and idly wondered if she would break down before him. What a fool. Then came the first hiccup, and he reveled in his own wickedness. How convenient it was to be blessed in the art of speech craft. Suddenly, the wench threw herself upon him, which he had NOT been expecting- _this is the very same human who interrupted my diplomatic mission and threatened to kill me_\- and he bristled, fight the urge to throw her away. _Play nice._ Forcing himself to relax, he lifted a hand to place on her pathetically hunched form, keeping the touch as light as possible. Yet again, he had talked a woman into tears. How many times did this make? Her wild hair fell around his neck, admittedly soft, and he was shocked to find that he nearly forgotten she was human.

Clearing his throat, he spoke, "I'm… so very sorry that you fell for my brother. I hope you can find it in your heart to forget about him. You deserve to be treated as a goddess," he nearly choked at the end, but it came out sounding very convincing. "Tyson left not long before you awoke. If you would like to leave before he returns, I can handle him for you. I understand that it will be difficult to face him," he said soothingly.

_Where could I go?_ Jennessa thought desperately. Curling up to Saeran wasn't comforting, it was mostly awkward. But at least HE cared about her feelings. Jennessa was beyond shame. "Thank you, Saeran," she managed through choked, heartbroken gasps. "That's very kind of you." Jennessa swallowed, and her voice, even choking back tears, rang with a familiar steely determination. "But no. I want a few words with him myself."

_You mustn't have them._ He could see her eyes change then, and had a vision of that night months ago on the road to Starhold. He hastened to absolve the situation. "This is only what he wants. He abandoned you alone because he expects you to stay right where he left you." He feigned anger. "As if you are some object." He shook his head. "Don't you want to show you can make your own decisions? That you aren't dependent on him simply because you have not been to this grand city before?" He had an inkling and stood suddenly. "Here's an idea."

He briskly left the room and returned with something wrapped in paper. "Go, enjoy yourself, remind him that you aren't his pet." Opening the small package, Saeran removed the item and handed it to Jennessa, revealing a beautiful library card with gold leafing. "You can take as many books as you like with this."

Jennessa felt cold as she considered what Saeran said. But then he returned, and her reddened eyes lit up in surprise and wonder at the much-desired object in his extended hand. Saeran wasn't all bad, after all. Slowly she took the library card with shaking hands, and a grateful smile warmed the room. Jennessa nodded with a sniffle at her only friend left. "Okay." she managed, considerably calmer. She wiped her eye with the sleeve of her tunic-Tyson's tunic- and made her way out of the parlor to collect the rest of her things. It was back to the library with her now.

Saeran's expression followed the girl with a grand, sympathetic smile, until she rounded the corner and was gone. He could count on her being gone for hours now, at least. And he could rest assured that the estate would remain in its current dimensional location for the foreseeable future, now that the temper of the arcanist was calmed. As soon as she was out of sight, Saeran straightened his posture, brushed off the shoulder where she'd soiled him with her tears, and turned briskly towards the guest bedroom where he had urgent business to attend to.

Saeran took a breath to slow his thumping heart and turned the doorknob slowly. He barely glanced at the elf lying on the bed, and instead turned to close the door quietly, carefully. He locked it once, twice, and then turned to Sidhion at last with the most devious, triumphant grin on his face. Then Saeran Naïlo burst out into a cackle. He had just successfully maneuvered one of the greatest swindlings of his career, and for once there was even an audience.

Sidhion was comfortably sprawled on the plush bed, his legs swinging, and his arm over his eyes when the door opened finally. _At last._ He looked up, delighted to see his prince, and... _oh, I know that smile._ As Saeran laughed merrily, Sidhion found himself chuckling in amusement. How long had it been since he'd heard that laugh? Clearly Saeran had been successful (not that the girl had been particularly difficult to fool), and he gave a small applaud at his friend's antics. "Don't tell me you convinced the poor girl to leave Holimion," he teased. He lifted himself onto his elbows as he waited for Saeran to tell him of his caper. _You never change._ The locks were in place. No one would disturb them. He could hardly contain his excitement. This was most definitely worth skipping his meeting today.

"It won't be long," Saeran said through his grin. "Yet she won't remember a thing she saw today, on account of her _poor broken heart_." On those last words, Saeran clapped his hands to his chest, melodrama in his voice. "Not that she knew what she saw," he muttered with a twinkle in his pale eyes.

"Of you are delightfully conniving." _And devilishly handsome, and much, much more._ Sidhion fell back snickering. "Honestly, poison in my tea? Who would believe such a thing?" Where did Tyson find such women? If she so easily fell for Saeran's words over Tyson's, she deserved such heartache. He ran his fingers over his chest, giving Saeran a meaningful look. "I trust she'll not come running to the rescue again?"

"Definitely not." Saeran drawled, smirking down at Sidhion. "You're at my mercy." Suddenly he seized Sidhion's hand and pulled him up from the bed, twirling him in a mock waltz. Saeran was obviously in high spirits. "I couldn't have done it, of course, if you hadn't stalled her so obligingly. If I didn't know better I'd think you were jealous," he said with an unfair grin. Of course he was jealous. Which was foolish of him, but then Sidhion didn't know the girl's true identity. He'd never stoop as low as Tyson.

Sidhion let himself be swung, as if he were a young boy in Lamara again. He was at Saeran's mercy. He played off the color to his face, gracefully spinning and ending with his hands possessively on Saeran's torso. "Jealous of her?" he smiled. "Piffle. I was trying to dismiss her," he said evasively. He had been utterly blind with envy. It was so apparent, he should have known Saeran wouldn't ignore it. He stared into Saeran's eyes. _You belong to me._ "To conceal our little dalliance. No need to thank me."

Saeran nodded seriously, and then dipped Sidhion suddenly. _Stop pretending to be composed._ "No matter. She's all gone now." _And may never come back._ Saeran fell onto the bed with his partner in crime, hoping Tyson would be out of the house for weeks.

Jennessa hardly looked up while she walked to her destination. She frequently watched her feet, recalling that the last time she walked this path he was taking her where she so desperately wanted to go. Barely a third of the way, she glanced down at the card in her hands; a small condolence for the tremendous loss she had suffered. A single tear leaked from her eyes once in a while. She wasn't sure what was worse, the tragedy of her love wasted, or the frustration of not being able to tell him off for it. Jennessa shoved the card in her bag, until she would need it again, and her hand brushed up against a crumpled, folded, piece of parchment.

Eryndor.

Tyson had broken his heart as well, in some ways. And also his face. Jennessa shivered off another wave of guilt and trudged to the library, for lack of anywhere else to go.

Eryndor was huddled in the corner of the second floor of the Circadium. It was the place was the most solitude in the entire library, as he was cut off from view of passerby's various bookcases and shelves. The way they had been arranged allowed a small cove within them that few knew of, and Eryndor had to crawl on his hands and knees to get to. Here, he had all the peace he desired to read- the shelves were thick and sequestered so that he could read even aloud if he so wished. As an added bonus, no one would see his face.

The elf had really done a number. Purple bruises lined the upper part of his nose, his eye, and his upper cheekbone on that side. He found himself avoiding mirrors and reflections, as it made him sick to look at and think that this hideously warped skin belonged to him. Minrariel had given him something for the pain- which was all that he allowed her to do, as health potions were much too expensive for him to accept complimentary, no matter how good of friends they were.

He turned a page of the book he had propped open on his knees- "Some Things You Didn't Care to Know about Inus"- and paused for the umpteenth time as his face throbbed and his vision swam. He covered his left eye and sighed, hitting his head on the wall. The fine text was straining his vision, so he decided to take a walk. At least in the library, people tended to be more engrossed in their tomes than in a stranger's face.

Jennessa let herself into the Circadium, much less joyful than the last time she was here. She flashed her beautiful new library card and avoided eye contact with the librarian. Jennessa wished she had her cloak with her, to pull up her hood and hide from the world, but she had opted instead this morning to leave Tyson's house as soon as possible. She ascended the spiral staircase joylessly to scour the shelves of the second floor for beautiful books she might find to distract herself. It was best to enjoy herself in spite of him, right? That's what Saeran said. But Jennessa had barely started picking out books when she suddenly made eye contact with a familiar individual. She froze.

Eryndor made the mistake of descending to the first floor to look outside when by chance he glanced to his left and had to triple-take. Was it... Elawyn? His heart stuttered and he gasped slightly, freezing in his tracks. He knew, of course, that Elawyn needed books as much as he, so it should hardly be surprising that she would return to the single greatest library in the world. But with everything that had happened yesterday and last night, he wondered if it was some cruel joke by fate to send both of them here again so soon... What about Tyson Naïlo? Did she manage to find him? If so, why was she here in the morning? Then she noticed his stare and she looked up and paled as well. _Uh oh..._

He self-consciously turned his face away to hide the bruising, and then hurried off in the other direction. Maybe she hadn't gotten a good look at him. Certainly after the fool he made of himself yesterday, she wouldn't want to see him. He would do her a favor and hide himself away on the second floor once more...

So he ran. It was just as Jennessa had feared: she had no friends in Holimion. With a sigh she continued through the bookshelves, lonelier than ever. But she couldn't keep herself distracted, not with the look of regret from Eryndor's bruised face burned into her eyelids. So she gave up and trudged after him.

She found him briskly walking the corridors evasively. He wanted nothing to do with her. "Eryndor," she breathed, her voice a plea. "I'm sure you don't want to talk to me now. Or...ever again. But I thought you might be interested to know that I made a mistake."

She followed him. Why was she following him? Her words... no, he wasn't upset. He could never be upset. He was a fool to think that a few kind words and common interests were enough to gain her affections. To think that he could win her heart when of course it already belonged to another. _Mistake?_ His heart leapt with hope before he crushed it down again. The mistake was letting him take her to the apothecary, or going to the hot springs, or perhaps talking to him to begin with. She should have ignored him as everyone else in Holimion did.

He stopped halfway through a row of bookcases and pivoted enough to look at her sadly. "Elawyn..." he sighed." I should not have put you through any of that. Please forgive me," he whispered (they were in a library, after all) and bowed respectfully, keeping his gaze on her boots.

Eryndor. Always so kind, so formal, when Jennessa knew she absolutely didn't deserve it. "Stop talking like that," Jennessa said impatiently. She took a moment to calm herself before she raised her voice, and to keep any more tears from falling from her swollen eyes. "You did nothing wrong. It was," She had to pause, unable to say or even think Tyon's name without heart-wrenching shame and regret. "him." Why did she keep throwing herself into the company of men who wanted no part of her? Jennessa rubbed her shoulders and struggled to think of some way to make it up to him, the gentle intellectual who, for at least a moment, truly LIKED her.

_Him?_ Eryndor couldn't believe his ears. Was she talking about Naïlo? Her eyes were puffy and raw. What had been done to her to make her cry so? His heart went out to see such anguish on the face of the most beautiful, pleasant, and intelligent woman he'd ever met. He wanted to offer comfort, and was debating whether or not to touch her when he gave in and took her wrist gently so that she looked into his eyes. "Elawyn, are you alright? Did something happen?" he questioned, voice laced with concern. He wasn't even bothered by the residual discomfort from his encounter. Like when he was reading, everything else sort of sucked away as his mind centered on the single topic. But Elawyn was so much better than a book. _Why do I still feel this way after everything? I met her yesterday..._

Jennessa wanted to turn away but couldn't, couldn't help but look back in his eyes, full of care that she didn't deserve, but she needed. She wanted to cry, not because she had lost her beloved Tyson, but because he was never there to begin with. Slowly, Jennessa forced herself to speak. "I was wrong about him," she said weakly. It wouldn't be enough to make Eryndor forgive her for putting him in so much pain even after Esther warned her. But maybe she could have someone to confide in. She had no one.

Eryndor's eyes softened. She seemed to be having trouble speaking. But he couldn't believe that Elawyn would misplace her trust in someone she had known for so long. "You don't have to tell me... but if you want to, I'll listen," he promised. He glanced around, wondering if they should move somewhere else.

Jennessa nodded slowly. It might help her sort out all the convoluted feelings to talk to him. Eryndor was a very good listener. She glanced around for somewhere to sit. She didn't want to disturb other readers with her girlish woes. "Okay. Where...?" she managed softly.

He doubted she wanted to crawl into a dusty cramped corner with him, so he subtly felt around his pocket for the pieces of copper he'd shoved in there this morning. _Enough._ "Come with me," he said, keeping her wrist in the most comforting-but-not-romantic way he could manage. Then he froze. This was how it all started. He floundered. "I mean, we don't have to go anywhere! I was just going to suggest this cafe around the corner- about two minutes' walk from here- but you can stay here if you like, it's your choice. I mean, me inviting you out is what started this whole..." he trailed off, flustered. _Mess? Adventure? This whole what?_ An elf down the aisle shushed him and snapped his book shut (Eryndor cringed) before tapping his ears at the two and storming away.

With a laden sigh, Jennessa pulled the library card from her pocket with her free hand and turned it over thoughtfully. Running off with Eryndor yet again, instead of staying put where the handsome Naïlo had told her to. Not a good idea. The last thing she wanted was to get Eryndor punched again. She glanced up at him, careful not to linger on the bruised side of his face, and almost smiled at his characteristic verbal clumsiness. "Last time we met, you, um... you mentioned a landing upstairs?" _If someone else has to see me cry today, let it only be you._

Eryndor nodded. "Yes, of course." _Stupid, stupid._ "As long as we speak softly, we shouldn't be bothered." He glanced at the library card she played with in her hands, temporarily saddened that he didn't, nor would he ever, have the funds a Naïlo could offer. "Right this way." And so he released her arm and led her up the grand steps. He wondered why she even wanted to speak to him after his actions, but he wouldn't question it. She could see him whenever she wished.

It was so reassuring to think that she could talk to Eryndor once again. Especially now, when she really needed a friend and it was doubtful there was anyone in Holimion who could understand her woes. Well, it was unlikely Eryndor could relate to a polymorphed human living among elves, under threat of being enslaved while the one reason why she'd come had now betrayed her trust and her love. But at least he could pose a nice distraction.

He brought her in front of an elegant but solid wooden door and Jennessa stepped through without hesitation.

As they opened the door, they were hit with a gust of cool winter air. The patio itself was large to accommodate the great library and any and all of the readers and researchers who wanted a breath of fresh air or a place to let their children play while they studied without disturbing others. Now, however, it was late morning, and the slightly visible sun neared the center of the sky. Many elves were settling home for a few hours of meditation, so they were fortunate to have the area to themselves. Sunshine poked between the ever reaching Lamara tree branches hundreds of feet above, and despite the ferns and ivy that embellished and enshrouded the balcony from street view, adding privacy and a buffer from the sounds of the Holimion, there was a lovely view of the city. Some aesthetically placed fountains bubbled, though silently, with a bright pink liquid that was pleasurable to gaze upon.

Eryndor pulled out a chair for Jennessa and sat across from her. To break the silence, he spoke up carefully. "If you don't mind me asking... what happened last night after you left?" _You seemed upset. In a hurry, perhaps, but not broken._

With her last ounce of dignity Jennessa sat down, ladylike, in the chair he offered for her. Then, almost immediately, she set her elbows on the table and cast her hands into her hair. _He never loved you._ Jennessa took a shuddering breath and mustered the strength to respond. Of course Eryndor wanted to know. "I did catch up to him." she muttered. "Well, he... he came back for me. I thought it was because he cared. Stupid me."

"You aren't stupid," Eryndor said immediately before he could stop himself. Then he averted his eyes. It was difficult enough for her to talk about this without his outbursts. "I'm sorry. You must know you're very intelligent. Go on." He straightened up waited for her continue.

Jennessa snorted a half-hearted laugh. Then she looked up suddenly at Eryndor, eyes raw with emotion. "Let me go back. And tell you everything," she said with resolve, and took a deep breath before recounting her tale.

"I... I fell for Tyson the moment I met him. Before I knew about his money or his name. He was so unlike anything I ever saw... it didn't ever matter to me. I was his from that moment."

Jennessa looked away for a moment, into the calming trickle of the fountains and the leaves that blew in the breeze, so far above the ground.

"Battle after battle we fought, side by side, and he... He hardly looked at me twice. I wanted nothing but his love and he starved me for it." she swallowed, fighting the lump in her throat. "Eventually he warmed up to me. I don't know if I impressed him, or his standards were lowered. But we were close." Her eyes gleamed with a faraway bliss behind a veil of tears as her voice started to crack. "He confided in me. We were good friends I thought. We spent just about every waking minute together, and even while I slept I knew he was keeping watch over me. It was really great, having a friend who wasn't a bird for once in my life. Knowing a boy who wouldn't tease me. I-" she faltered. "I trusted him so much. I would have done anything for him. And I did. Time and time again I threw myself in danger to keep Tyson safe. What was it to live if I couldn't feel him kiss me just once more?"

"I thought... I thought he felt the same. I thought I was important to him. So last night I came running after him, and I begged him to forgive me." The first frustrated tear fell, and there was nothing more she could do. She was blinded by her agony. "And he did. He held me close and said it was all okay, and he brought me to his house and he ripped my suit apart and-" Jennessa stopped herself as the words came tumbling out. She was shaking as tears rolled down her face, tears of heartbreak, and frustration, and shame. How easily she was chided into giving herself away. Jennessa buried her head in her arms and fell apart onto the table. She couldn't keep the heaving gasps from coming. She gave him everything; her spells, her secrets, her love, her blood, her body. And she would have given him so much more.

"When I woke up, he was gone," she managed finally. "Then Saeran told me the truth." Her voice shook with anger. "He told me Tyson didn't love me. That he couldn't love anyone. He... he used me from the start."

Eryndor gasped. He really had no idea what he had walked into the other day. But this powerful woman sat before him in shambles because of Tyson Naïlo, and it filled him with anger- something he wasn't used to feeling. _How dare he..._ "Oh Elawyn," he said soothingly. He paused, not sure what to say. It'll be alright? It's just a misunderstanding? Tyson won't hurt you anymore? He couldn't say these things because they weren't true. He took her hand and squeezed it. Finally, he said, "What did he say in his defense?"

Jennessa looked up at him from her folded arms, eyes streaked with tears. "Nothing," she said. "He was gone when I awoke. Probably in a brothel somewhere." She wiped at her eyes and gently squeezed Eryndor's hand. How pitiful she must have looked. "I thought about waiting around to give him a piece of my mind, but Saeran's right- that's what he wants. I will not be a plaything and stay put wherever he leaves me."

Eryndor nodded understandingly. "No man owns you." This Saeran- that was Tyson's older brother, right? - he seemed to be interfering an awful lot. He had contradicted the integrity of their entire friendship this morning, but on what grounds? As much as he wanted to believe that it was true. That Tyson Naïlo was a monster who scorned women. He had seen an awful lot of emotion when that fist hit his cheek, and beforehand when they were all sitting together, every time he looked at Elawyn. There was anger directed at him, obviously, but something else. It wasn't something he hid very well, but Elawyn hadn't noticed. She must have been too preoccupied with her own feelings. Just like Eryndor had been when he had been blinded to her sheerly platonic interest in him. "It sounds like Saeran doesn't like him very much. He doesn't speak so kindly of his brother."

Jennessa shook her head, questioning the relevance of this divergent topic, but indulging Eryndor anyway. "They don't get along. Saeran's a gentleman. And kind of a snob." Jennessa sniffled and patted her eyes with a white handkerchief she seemed to pull out of midair. "And then Tyson's... well. You know." She sighed sadly at the thought of his punch-first, interrogate-later attitude that used to be so endearing to her. "He claims Saeran is a liar and a villain. But that's just what a liar would say. I... I don't know who to believe." Saeran's explanation was so harsh, and it seemed to some from nowhere at all. The handkerchief disappeared as Jennessa set her chin in the palm of her hand.

"It explains a lot, though." Jennessa said, with a cynical twist of humor in her trembling voice. "Like why he never stayed around with me. Or why he never let anyone see us together. Even holding hands. Or, why he never admitted even for a second that he had feelings for me. Because I guess even he couldn't lie so boldly. He couldn't love me. Why would he?" Jennessa couldn't explain to herself why she was spilling her heart out to Eryndor. Or, for that matter, why he was listening. He'd only known her for a day, and in that day she'd crushed his hopes and gotten him beaten up by a paladin. Yet still he held her hand reassuringly.

He watched her handkerchief amazedly, wishing for the millionth time he could use magic like so many others- but this wasn't the time to be thinking about something so trivial. The whole thing sounded odd somehow. Eryndor may not have been the most experienced in matters of people, but he'd read plenty of novels. He knew this was Elawyn's business, however, and he didn't want to give her advice that wasn't welcome. "There are a thousand reasons," he said softy. Then he looked at her earnestly. "I don't really know the Naïlos like you do, so I can't tell you what to do. Clearly, one of them is telling the truth, and the other isn't. But it's up to you to decide that," he said, tightening his grip on her hand and offering a smile. "How long have you known Tyson?"

Jennessa fiddled with his fingers and sort of blushed and looked away. "A... a few months." Even for a human lifespan it was a silly span of time to fall so deeply in love.

Oh if only there was someone would look like that when they thought about him. A few months wasn't very long at all, but they HAD spent nearly every day and every night together. It was a lot longer than one afternoon, Eryndor reminded himself. He nodded. "If you trust him, maybe you should hear his side. You should talk to him first. That's what I think," he finished. Eryndor had looked at Elawyn like he wanted her- oh how he did. But Tyson, no Tyson had looked at her like he needed her. Which was something else entirely. "You don't have to listen to me of course! I mean, what do I know? It's possible Saeran's right, after all... But you would know that, depending. I'm... sorry." He cut himself off before he lost control of his stuttering.

Jennessa dragged her eyes back to Eryndor. Always apologizing for nothing and everything. She looked at his big bruised eye and felt another tinge of regret. "Does it still hurt?" she asked softly. Of course she had seen so much worse, but Eryndor probably wasn't used to being hit like they were. _Tyson did that. But here you are, defending him. Why are you still here?_

For a second he thought she meant his heart, but he realized she was staring at his eye. His fingers went up self-consciously and he looked away. "It isn't so bad. Minrariel gave me some things... please don't worry. I'll be just fine in a little time." Did he really deserve her concern? Eryndor didn't think so.

Sounded reassuring. Jennessa watched his hand cover his face with an insecure movement she knew all too well. "It looks fine to me," she muttered with a weak smile. Probably she should go hunt down Tyson to hear his side, but Jennessa wasn't ready to leave the company of her friend. The tears had stopped falling at least.

Eryndor chuckled. "I'm sure you've seen much much worse. This is nothing," he said self-derisively. He looked around. It was nearly noon now. "You don't have to sit with me. I know you must have plenty of things to do, for however long you're here."

"I know I don't have to," she said with a sigh. "You're right though. I have a war to settle and a man to win back. Or scream at. We'll see." Jennessa adjusted her bag and readied herself to stand up and leave the Circadium once more when she glanced down and noticed Eryndor was still holding her hand. She looked in his eyes then, not at the discoloration around them but really in them. Tyson's gaze certainly never held so much admiration. "Why?" The word escaped her lips without thought. Jennessa tilted her head at him, perplexed. "You met me yesterday and I brought you nothing but trouble. Yet here you are. What can you possibly gain from being here for me?" He couldn't be in love with her; he didn't know the first thing about her. He'd never even seen her real face, she thought with a surge of guilt. If he was using her for her body like Tyson probably was, then why would Eryndor encourage her to reconcile with him? She'd already told him her best stories, and he couldn't benefit from her magic. What did he want?

Eryndor wanted to blurt out the first things that came to his mind. But he forced himself to mull it over, and found himself curious as to the answer as well. Obviously, she couldn't give him much. She HAD brought him trouble- (most of which had been his own fault) - but she'd also brought him emotions and joy he didn't know he was capable of feeling. He wasn't about to gain her love, but that had been a whimsical wish. Finally he met her lovely eyes again.

"Your friendship," he said with an earnest smile.

Jennessa supposed she was learning how to read elves more and more each day she spent here. Eryndor sure seemed to mean it- he was her friend. No matter what happened, she had him to talk to about it. Jennessa stood at last with a warm smile on her face that had been damp with tears not so long ago. "Okay," she said brightly. "I'll see you around. Next time you can take me to the college," She paused meaningfully. _I will not forget about you._ "Bye, Eryndor." And with that Jennessa let her fingers slip from his without a second thought and bounced away to find her Tyson.

Eryndor wondered idly if he would ever see her again, and all too soon, her touch left his and she departed. "Goodbye, Elawyn," he sighed to no one in particular and then drummed his fingers on the table before pulling his favorite book out of his satchel. He opened the front cover with the softest of touched, but found himself- for the first time in his short life- not wanting to read. He folded his arms in front of him and buried his face in them. _She's gone._

Tyson grumbled as he returned to Naïlo Estate. If he wasn't mistaken, Jennessa should be waking up right on schedule soon. She was quite consistent, seeing as she had her spells to prepare each day. He probably shouldn't have left her to begin with, but what else was he to do while she slept? Talk with Saeran? And Sidhion. He could still remember when the two of them would trick him into doing silly things for them and getting him into trouble. No thank you. Unfortunately, he would have to walk by Saeran again to reach his old bedroom and slumbering comrade. What did Saeran know? Calling Jennessa a harlot and a slave... he wished he'd broken more than Saeran's teacup. But Saeran couldn't understand all of the things Jennessa was capable of.

He nodded at some servants in passing and opened his door, taking a moment to take off his muddy riding boots. He had taken Ellifain out for a bit, as she had been getting antsy and stir-crazy. Riding was a way of relaxing that reminded him things were different now. And it was surprisingly pleasant to do so with his forgotten tunic. A walk through town would not have been a good idea.

Coming into the main room, he saw that the dishes on the table earlier had been put away, and a servant had cleaned up the tea he'd spilt. He thought it odd they wouldn't leave some food for his guest in case she awoke, but it was no matter. He walked down the hall, ignoring the muffled sounds coming from the guest room (when had Saeran invited someone?) and made his way to his room to find his bed beautifully made, but more importantly empty. As was his room.

Saeran took a moment to gather his breath for the fourth or fifth time, allowing Sidhion to lay his head on his bare, heaving chest. It would be an understatement to say Saeran was having a good day. He let his eyes slip shut, and no sooner did he do so then hear the front door shut. The time had come to complete this intervention in his brother's mistakes, once and for all. Saeran pushed himself up and glanced at his partner, whose ears also had perked at the sound. "That would be your exeunt," he said passionlessly to Sidhion.

Sidhion groaned as Sidhion sat up, rolling limply onto the mattress beside him. His normally dynamic curls were somewhat flattened against the skin on his forehead, and he looked lazily up at Saeran. He smirked. "Don't care to go another round?" In all actuality, he was exhausted. But he knew they were done, do there was no harm teasing. The most glorious hours of his life were coming to a close. He ghosted his fingers down Saeran's spine, which he had learned to be quite sensitive.

Saeran stiffened at the touch. Perhaps another minute or two could go unnoticed... No. No, there were much more pressing matters to attend to. Saeran glided to his feet, away from Sidhion's lingering hands, and recovered his clothes with a businesslike haste. A moment's piercing gaze over fastening buttons told Sidhion he had better do the same.

Sidhion rolled his eyes and slid gracefully to the floor, fishing for his pants and pulling them on. He slipped his shirt on, much in the same fashion, and checked himself in the mirror to be sure they weren't too telling. He fixed his hair as much as he could with fingers alone and sauntered over to Saeran. "I suppose you aren't all talk after all," Sidhion said as he leaned in and stole a final sensual kiss (his heart leapt). "Don't torture him, you know he can't keep up," he joked, turning the knob lightly to take his leave.

_Front door? Absolutely not. Who do you think you are?_ Saeran grasped at his wrist and pulled him away from the door. "You'll be noticed," he said sternly, cocking an eyebrow. "Is this your first time operating confidentially? Honestly, Sidhion." Saeran shut the door himself and guided Sidhion to the opposite wall, gesturing grandly at the window for good measure.

Sidhion looked at the window, then back at Saeran. "A window?" He snorted. "Honestly, you underestimate me." He snapped his fingers and cast invisibility on himself. "For your sake," he whispered in Saeran's ear before slipping out the window and closing it behind him. He trudged down the hillside, unseen, and headed for the town hall to apologize for his absence. "First time indeed."

Saeran could only trust that he was indeed gone, so he closed the curtains once more and concerned himself with fluffing his collar and correcting his hair. There was no denying to Tyson that h'ed had company, but at least the human wouldn't be around to ask about Sidhion. One more reason why the two could never mix again. With a breath Saeran strode out of the empty guestroom and towards his office.

"Jennessa?" Tyson looked around one more time before turning and heading down the hall. Was she in the kitchen? The living room? Perhaps the back patio? He began a brisk search around the home, checking with servants who claim not to have seen anything. But they always claimed as such, so he didn't know what to think. He checked the guest rooms (save for Saeran's -he KNEW she wouldn't be in there) and eventually poked his head into Saeran's office with the most bored expression he could muster.

Saeran looked disinterestedly up from some musty old legal book that he had absolutely been reading. "Ah, Tyson. I trust you've calmed down since this morning." Saeran had to stifle a smirk at how consistently Tyson played into his hands.

"Shut up. Where's Jennessa?" Tyson grouched. Saeran acted like he'd been working, but Tyson's perceptive eyes said that clearly he'd simply been entertained the past few hours. Arrogant self-righteous snob…

Saeran's expression hardened, disappointed. "Do I look like her master?" he drawled. He turned his attention back to the tome in his lap. "Some young elf showed up this morning. Offered to take her to the library. Why does it matter to you?"

Tyson swore and tore out of the room, choosing to ignore his brother's character rudeness in favor of finding Jennessa. She'd wandered off with that commoner again, after everything that happened last night! His blood boiled. He had been forgiving with his punches then, but he wouldn't be this time. If that didn't say "keep the hell away from her", he didn't know what would.

Saeran looked up at the suddenly vacant doorway and couldn't stop the evil smile that spread over his lips. Only a matter of time.

Meanwhile, Jennessa walked the path back to Naïlo manor, with less spring in her step the more she thought about the conversation she was walking into. What if Saeran had been right about Tyson? What lies would he invent to cover his tracks? If it was true, and Tyson manipulated all the women he could get his hands on... Jennessa wasn't certain to what extent she would be able to control her temper. Tears were gone, and now there was only fire.

Tyson was running full force, so when he spotted Jennessa walking up towards the manor, he took her up in his arms in relief and spun her with the momentum before placing her down. "Jennessa." He checked her carefully to see if she was hurt or upset. If Eryndor had done anything... Her eyes were red. She'd been crying. "Are you okay? That library guy did something didn't he?" Tyson demanded, livid.

Jennessa's heart nearly stopped when Tyson barreled into her and, surprisingly, held her in the most uncharacteristically romantic way. The way she just wanted to swoon and giggle, she had to remind herself that she was mad at him. _You're good._ "Where were you this morning?" Jennessa demanded sourly. "And for that matter, how did you know I was with Eryndor?"

At first Tyson was taken aback at the fiery questions reciprocated at him. He clenched his fist to find that, indeed, she HAD been with Eryndor. "I went riding. Ellifain needed the exercise," he brushed it off before continuing. "How do you think? My brother saw him pick you up from the manor." Wasn't that only logical? Jennessa should have figured that out with ease.

Jennessa's expression softened somewhat before it turned perplexed. "That's not what happened." she said with a dose of attitude. "I went by myself."

Now Tyson was confused. Was she outright lying to him? Or had Saeran been mist- _Idiot._ When had Saeran ever told the truth ever? He palmed his face. But still, she HAD gone to the library... _to see Eryndor._ After everything yesterday and last night... she'd always followed him and supported him and cared for him, and it was very un-Jennessa-like to simply leave instead of waiting for him or searching for him. And it made him feel somewhat empty inside. He hadn't been enough for her.

"Why did you go to him?" he asked her as calmly as he could manage at this point, trying not to reveal his betrayed feelings.

Jennessa glared at him. "You were gone." Every word rang out. "I woke up and you'd just... left. Then I learned about all the girls. The prostitutes. You don't care about anyone you sleep with, do you?"

"Why would I care about a prostitute?" Tyson argued back angrily. It was a business arrangement for a night. Oftentimes, they never even exchanged names. And the girls preferred it that way. But he hadn't been to a whorehouse in a month, at least. He didn't see what that had to do with anything. "You're not making any sense."

Jennessa took a step back. He couldn't be calling HER a prostitute, could he? "Did last night mean anything to you?" she growled.

What? Tyson's anger disappeared. That was a difficult question, because he knew that 'no' was an incorrect answer. He tried to piece words together. "I care about you Jennessa. Don't you know that?" he felt a weight crushing him from inside his chest somehow, and he hated it. Why was she accusing him of... well he still wasn't quite sure WHAT she was accusing him of, but he was sure Eryndor wasn't any help.

Jennessa was disarmed for a moment. She unfolded her arms and stared Tyson in the eyes. _You had better not be lying to me._ "You must," she said softly. Then her strength returned to her. "But then, why do you keep it a secret?" _Dodging questions, slinking away from me. You're only mine when we're alone._ "Are you ashamed?" Jennessa dared to ask.

How was he keeping it a secret? Tyson thought he'd been clear in the ways that he'd defended her so many times. And his body language was quite obvious, he thought. "No." He wasn't ashamed of anything. But he was hopelessly confused. "I... What more do you want from me?" He wasn't enough for her. She was so disappointed in him for some reason, and Tyson wished she would just tell him already.

He looked so uncertain, it was odd for Tyson, and Jennessa felt a brief tinge of guilt at what she'd reduced him to. _I want you to love me._ But she couldn't say that. What if it was impossible? "Saran said you couldn't love anyone." she said softly. "He said you...you can't be satisfied. That you're promiscuous."

So Saeran had been behind it. _He's slept with at least three times as many women as I have._ For an elf, he had a normal sex drive, Tyson thought. It was nowhere near a problem. As for loving... he supposed that he loved Jennessa and Sly, his axe, Ellifain... He was certainly capable. "Do you believe that?" he asked her, wanting her opinion.

"I... I don't know what to believe. I certainly hope not." When Saeran spoke, all she wanted to do was get lost in his voice and obey his every word. "I wouldn't have slept with you if I didn't think you were in love with me," Jennessa couldn't finish that sentence looking in his eyes, so she turned them towards the floor. Oh, how desperate and foolish she was to believe Tyson had loved her. It was only in her wildest dreams that she'd ever hear him say it. The truth was that no one loved her or ever would.

Tyson sighed, feeling that emptiness once more. It felt like he'd been kicked. There was that word 'love' again. "I'm not good at expressing myself. I don't do things the way you do." He slid his foot in the dirt listlessly. "I do care about you," he said again. He was positive of this, so he could say it. "I'm not insatiable. I wish you wouldn't think so little of me," he said, pride hurt. Where was the trust they'd worked to establish all these months? Where was that undying devotion he was used to seeing? Had she really believed these things all this time? It was perfectly acceptable for people to have casual intercourse, even married. Pricey, perhaps, so it tended to be something that nobles partook in, but part of living for a thousand years. It was an act of relieving tension. But he gave in to his emotions this one night, and he had thought it was something they had both wanted. Yet Jennessa couldn't be more displeased. He looked like he wanted to say more but he just threw his hands up. "Forget it." Then he turned and strode back toward the manor.

Jennessa was dying to hear whatever had been on the tip of his tongue before he gave up speaking his thoughts. But then he suddenly left her standing alone. "What?" she blurted. What did that even mean? That he 'didn't do things the way you do'? He... he didn't love her after all. Jennessa darted after him but didn't know how to make him turn around and start making sense.

Tyson heard her coming and knew she was faster, so attempting to evade her was fruitless. He stopped walking, waiting for Jennessa to say whatever she'd run after him to say. He shouldn't have slept with her. Clearly that was the wrong thing to do. Perhaps Saeran had been right after all. In some aspects. His shoulders shook with- rage? Anguish? "Do you regret it?" he asked, when she didn't speak up. He had to know.

Jennessa froze. She had to think about it. It was what she'd wanted for so long...but only because of what she thought it meant. Did she regret spending the night with Tyson and leaving Eryndor in the dirt? Did she regret trying to understand him AFTER giving up her chastity? Did she regret waking up alone? No. No, she couldn't regret seeing the passion in his eyes and feeling her senses on fire. She didn't regret that he was the most important thing in her world. "No." she said adamantly. "I- I'm glad it was you."

His entire body sank in relief, and he turned. "Then why are you upset with me?" he asked, deflated. He reached up to trace her cheek as he waited for her answer. "What have I done wrong?" he questioned, beside himself. "I went to wake you up and you'd left. And you were with... have you grown bored of me?" He didn't know where these questions were coming from. He'd never felt so oddly insecure in all his years as the black sheep of Holimion. And he was reduced to this before her. He needed to leave and compose his emotions before he made a fool of himself.

"What? Of course not." Jennessa's cheek heated up under his hand. She dodged his eyes while she recollected her thoughts and tried to examine the events from a neutral perspective. "I thought you had used me." she said slowly. "You weren't there. I didn't know where you went, but Saeran said..." Saeran did seem to be butting in an awful lot. She looked back in his eyes, vulnerable, dying for understanding.

"You need four times as much sleep as I do, so I was letting you- You talked to Saeran? What did he tell you?" Suddenly something clicked in his befuddled mind. That his lying scoundrel of a brother had put these ideas into her head, and was the cause of all this unnecessary strife. He glowered. Saeran had always meddled in other's affairs. He'd never change. And his family and colleagues only encouraged his deceit. He was reminded yet again that he'd rather be anywhere than here.

Tyson's eyes changed, even Jennessa could tell. "He said all the awful things about you, and he gave me a library card-" Then the wheels in Jennessa's head started to whir. That deceitful son of a bitch... Jennessa narrowed her eyes as she learned what powers were REALLY at play. "And he told me not to wait around for you. And he told YOU that I was out with someone else." Jennessa was no longer sulking under a broken heart, but had the dangerous spark in her eyes of a Jennessa who was scorned and desired revenge. _Let's knock him off a bridge and make it look like an accident, _she thought briefly.

Tyson had heard enough. And he could see that Jennessa had figured it out as well, if the familiar glint in her eye told him anything. A few well-placed words here and there, and Saeran had them running around like puppets. "That piece of..." he muttered as he marched back up to the door and threw it open. He didn't know how he was going to handle it, but he knew right now he wanted to punch his brother in the jaw. At least. He meant more to Jennessa than he ever would to Saeran. For Saeran's sake, it was a good thing he wasn't holding his axe. If he knew anything about Jennessa's combat habits, he didn't need to look behind him to know that she was right on his heels.

Jennessa was livid. Her fists clenched at her sides. She pondered what spell to subject the slimy bastard to first, unable to ignore a hint of joy at once more being at Tyson's side, united again against a common enemy.

Saeran was in his office, occupying himself with an examination of a forthcoming reformation bill (which would certainly not pass) when quite a ruckus made to disturb him from his work. _What in the blazes...?_

"SAERAN." Jennessa's voice came growling from not nearly far enough away.

Apparently the human had not seen to it to leave Holimion yet. Saeran chewed on his bottom lip for a moment, then swiftly shut and bolted the door. It would not keep the footsteps stalled for long, but it could buy him some time. Maybe enough.

Tyson strode to Saeran's office and, noticing that the door was now closed, banged on it with his fist. "Open this," he said quietly through the crack in the side. He could demolish it if he so wanted. It wouldn't be the first time he'd broken a door in the Naïlo household. Saeran had no right interfering with the life Tyson had built. _This is the last time._

_Both of them, then._ Perhaps Saeran's mistake had been to direct one straight into the arms of the other. Maybe he hadn't kindled quite enough fury on one or both sides. Or maybe something he'd said had given Tyson hope that she could care about him after all. No matter the folly, here he was, pinned in his office with only a few inches of oak separating him from two very powerful scorned lovers. _And yet, it's not the first time_. Saeran thought with a sigh as he calmly but quickly removed the false bottom of his desk drawer and withdrew a key.

"Saeran, you can't hide in there," Tyson warned. His brother was well aware that he and Jennessa were getting into this room one way or another. And neither of them were patient people. He rolled his eyes and looked at Jennessa with silent question. _What should we do?_ For a moment he was reminded of when he ran and locked the door behind him when Saeran (and often Sidhion) was mercilessly pestering him. Then he'd grown big and strong enough to defend himself. But the memory was still there, and his eyes hardened.

Jennessa smiled brightly at Tyson before she motioned for him to step back. Then her eyes glowed fearsomely at she sent a blast of fiery energy into the door with a merciless hissing cry. Saeran was already under his desk, fumbling for the knot in the floor where his trapdoor was cleverly hidden, when a thunderous crackle made him fumble the key and nearly bang his head on the desk. He was out of time, and needed some words. Now.

Tyson's eyes widened. Well they could certainly order a new one from Stilmyst Woodwork. He almost laughed at the sight of Jennessa in his home burning up Saeran's nice things, but settled for a half smile and stayed focused. She always dazzled him were her use of destructive flaming spells. Stepping over the smoldering remains of the polished oakwood, he found Saeran on his knees by his desk and folded his arms. "Enjoying yourself?" he taunted as he waited for his brother to stand. He wondered if Saeran even had ulterior motives besides causing him and his comrade's pointless distress. _Were you hiding under the desk?_

Saeran stiffened and rose to his feet, trying to hide the panic pounding in his heart. Jennessa was standing in the doorway (or what was once a doorway), arms folded and eyes burning. "You... You're back!" he exclaimed with forged joy, and made his best attempt at a kind smile. He glanced from Tyson to Jennessa and back, trying to resist the urge to back away. "I'm so very proud of you both. Against all odds, you reconciled. Truly you are good enough for my brother. Please forgive any doubts I may have had." Saeran's voice was maybe a touch higher than usual, owing to the sheer fear for his life, but otherwise was perhaps convincing enough.

Tyson growled. "Stop pretending." He took a threatening step towards his brother, reveling in the flinch it produced. "What is wrong with you? Why won't you mind your own business?" Jennessa was nothing to Saeran. But to Tyson... he had no idea what he might've wrecked. He was one second away from letting loose his rage, and Saeran had better have a good reason for the stunts he'd pulled this morning. It seemed as far as Saeran was concerned, Tyson was not allowed a moment's happiness so long as he was in the elven kingdom.

Jennessa's eyes lit up briefly as she was convinced that Saeran was only testing her in order to protect Tyson. But then she shook her head of his beguiling words and remembered that all he did was lie and hurt people.

Saeran took a few steps back, confidence faltering, and continued his attempt to talk his way out of injury. "Please, Tyson, try to see things from my perspective," He cautiously pulled his chair out to create one more barrier between him and Tyson's fists, but as he rounded the corner of his desk Jennessa advanced on him. He was cornered. "I thought you were making a mistake. I've never been so happy to be wrong. Clearly what you have is something genuine and special and who am I to stand in the way of that?" he gulped, speech quickening with every step the two of them advanced on him.

_Lies lies lies. Just stop._ "The only mistake I made was leaving Jennessa in a house with you." Tyson stepped forward, took his brother's collar, and snarled in his ear. "Stay the hell away from her." And then he kneed him in the abdomen and clocked him with his other fist so hard that Saeran actually spun before falling unconscious to the floor. Tyson rolled his shoulder and exhaled at the pleasant quiet that then overtook the room. Much better. He met eyes with Jennessa. "Oh... did you want to say something first?" he asked as an afterthought. Perhaps he should have waited a tad longer.

Jennessa breathed a happy sigh at Tyson. How much better she felt now. "No. I think you pretty much said it best." she said sweetly. "I'm sorry about your door. Well, okay, not that sorry."

Tyson smiled for a second. "No, it was great. Sidhion will replace it," he said, looking at his sibling's pathetic form once more. He hoped that Saeran would be too sore to 'entertain' himself for a while. He imagined how enraged his brother would get. "He owns the wood company that built most of the upper town," he commented, approaching Jennessa and putting his hands on her waist. A door was nothing to replace.

_Why would anyone try to assassinate him?_ Jennessa smiled up at him with a hint of smugness. "One more villain vanquished," she joked quietly, in reference to Saeran sprawled motionless on the floor.

"We're good at that aren't we," he mumbled back. He felt much lighter now that they had conciliated. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to her lips, every bit as soft as they were last night. "Good morning," he grinned. "Want some breakfast?"

Jennessa nodded enthusiastically and took his hand. "That sounds great." They walked out of Saeran's nearly destroyed office without another glance back. _Maybe he doesn't know how to love me yet. But he'll figure it out soon enough._


	21. Jealous Closing Statement

Thank you for reading these stories. I wrote them with my best friend a long time ago, and as such there will be no further chapters created. If you have any interest in reading uncut versions of the chapters containing explicit content, send me a message.

Here is a bonus story that occurs before the others, about Jennessa's familiar, who once belonged to another place and time but lost his memories after being _polymorphed_. Please enjoy.

* * *

Upon their triumphant return, King Vladick ordered that a celebratory ball should take place in the honor of the adventurers that night. Jennessa was terribly excited. She never was taken to a ball at the college, and for once people at a party would be happy to see her. Upon leaving the palace, the party split paths: Cardinal to the church, Sly to the woods, and Shadow to the monastery. Tyson nodded at Jennessa and turned to walk to his house. "Tyson, wait." Jennessa snatched at his hand before he could escape her. He was looking at her expectantly. "Um... there is a ball tonight."

Tyson continued to stare. There was an awkward pause. Jennessa cleared her throat.

"Are you going to take someone?"

"I'm going alone," Tyson said, turning to leave the babbling girl.

"Yeah, well, me too." Jennessa trotted after him. "As of yet, I'm going alone. Unless...?"

The subtlety was lost on Tyson. Jennessa came to the conclusion that he was ignoring her hints while trying not to hurt her, so she let him slip away into the city alleys, disappointed.

Jennessa walked angrily to her house and slammed the door behind her. Esther, who was grooming under his wings, glanced up at her with a single unblinking eye. "You seem kinda upset." the bird screeched in Elven.

"Oh, Esther," Jennessa lamented, eyes welling with tears. She didn't have to hold back in her house, with only her familiar to see her. "There's a ball tonight, and I was so excited but Tyson doesn't want to go with me. He must be taking someone else. Probably an ELF, too." She shoved a pile of scrolls out of the way just in time to collapse face down on her couch, sobbing in frustration.

Esther looked around the parlor awkwardly. Seeing Jennessa cry always made him uncomfortable, and fairy-boy was more often the cause than not. He ruffled his wings and gently soared onto the coffee table. "Listen, Jennessa, it's not worth it to cry like this over men." The sobbing didn't stop. "You can go to the ball by yourself."

"It won't be the same," came Jennessa's muffled response from the couch. She rolled over and rubbed a sleeve over her eyes. "Why go to the ball without someone to dance with? Who am I gonna dance with, Cardinal? SLY?" She crumpled into her knees, murmering broken Elven through tears.

The bird perched himself on the arm of her couch. "You might meet someone new at the ball. Maybe you can even make fairy-boy jealous." Little did he know what those words would spiral into.

Jennessa's sorrowful heaving stopped suddenly. Her head shot up and she turned to look at the bird. "That's a good idea, Esther." Determination shining in her eyes, she moved up from the couch and darted around the house, collecting magical paraphernalia as she went. "I can make him jealous. I can show him I don't need him putting me down all the time. I could have a male companion if I wanted, and it certainly doesn't have to be him."

"Yes!" Esther squawked with enthusiasm. "That's the spirit girl! Don't you let no man put you down. You get out there and catch yourself a man."

Jennessa plopped a spellbook on the table next to Esther and leaned in close to him. "Oh, I'm going to make one."

"What." Before he knew what was happening, Jennessa wrapped her hands around his tiny body and set him on the floor, then took a brisk step back and whipped out a wand. "Oh no. No, that is not what I meant. Jennessa, this is the line. Stop. Stop!" Esther blurted the words in a haste, but there was no stopping her now. With three swift flicks and an incantation uttered with glowing blue eyes, Jennessa had turned Esther quite suddenly almost six feet tall. His head spun as suddenly he found himself lacking wings, and instead with long arms and legs. And fingers. Wow, fingers. A huge rush of information pulsed through his suddenly larger brain: a past life, with hands and feet and school and girls and...Black Sabbath? So many memories came surging back to him, like dreams long forgotten. He remembered movement and music, so much music, and friendship and family and ... and anger. He looked up at Jennessa, who was staring at him with the unfeeling gaze of a sculptor critiquing her work.

"Well. You look... well, less like Tyson than I imagined." She stowed her wand and walked away. Esther found himself somewhat hurt by the way she looked at him. This was him, wasn't it? A long forgotten version of him. "But it'll do. Oh, I think you're even a little bit taller. That ought to hurt his pride." Jennessa floated back to him, and was standing only a few inches away, examing his face. He felt blood rush into his cheeks and his ears. She looked carefully from one eye to the other, then her gaze settled on his nose. "That's quite a nose." She pressed a finger to it. "We'll fix that next time. So, you'll be dancing with me. It's quite alright if you don't know how, I can lead..."

Dance? At the word, muscle memory took over Esther's arms. He guided Jennessa's left hand with his right, and placed his left hand on her slender waist and pulled her in. A few quick steps and he twirled her around, bringing his hands to rest on her hips and pressing his forehead to hers. Jennessa's face changed from surprised to a pleasant smile. "Wow, I didn't expect that, Esther!"

Confusion on his face changed to exasperation. "About that... Esther's a girl's name," he managed before she cut him off.

"Right. We need to get you a new one. Oh, I need to go get ready." Jennessa turned abruptly and strided away, breaking his hold on her. "We can call you-"

"Ronald."

Jennessa turned at his sudden statement. Not like a suggestion- it was firm. She smiled softly. "Yes, that's good. Ronald." With that she turned and hurried up the stairs, singing gently. Jennessa was obviously excited. It was like TWIRP. What the holy hell is 'Twirp'? Ronald rushed to the washroom to find a full length mirror, which he turned towards him to suddenly get a view of a very familiar figure.

His face was obviously human, with round features, and a decently large nose. His eyes were a familiar muddy green color. He had a few freckles on his nose and along his neck, and a mop of curly brown hair. _Jew fro,_ he thought suddenly. His coat of gleaming black feathers turned into a dark waistcoat with a ton of brass buttons and these dumb tasseled shoulder pads. Coat tails echoed his old tail feathers. Puffy britches were tucked into shining black boots, and a short silken mantle covered the small of his back. "What the damn did this chick to do me?" he muttered out loud. He yearned for close-fitting cotton pants and a Mettalica t-shirt, or at least a knitted sweater. Ronald heard above him excited feet pounding on the floor. He walked absent mindedly to her room, where Jennessa was changing from her robes into a gown without even bothering to use her screen or shut her door. He realized he'd seen her change countless times, but this was very different.

When she noticed him there, she just smiled and continued dressing, happy as can be. "This is going to be great. We'll get to the ball, and he'll be all, 'Who's this tall stranger dancing with my girl?' and we'll be all, 'Sorry, Tyson, looks like I didn't need you to take me to the ball after all.'" Jennessa hummed to herself as she fluffed out her curly hair. "How do I look?"

Ronald could only stare. She'd picked out a yellow gown with a pink corset that looked stunning on her slender frame. Ribbons on the skirt trailed down to reveal a puffy petticoat giving form to her dress.

"You look beautiful." he said truthfully. Jennessa smiled and rolled her eyes. "You'll say whatever I want tonight, won't you? Perfect." She clasped his hand without a second thought and led him through the hallway and down the stairs.

Ronald let her lead the way, all the while thinking to himself. He had known this girl since she was a toothy 12 year old eating lunch by herself and now she was a young lady, beautiful and elegant and bright, leading him to go to the dance with her. She trusted him above anyone else. There was a time when she confessed to him that he was her only friend. At that time he was just a bird who spoke in broken Elven. Now she had new friends, and they made her cry and put her in pain and sent her to jail, dragging him with her all the while. In a different world he had friends, too. They made him laugh and cry and often do stupid shit for cash or food, and once or twice broke his heart. He knew what she must have been feeling, but above anything else he wanted to protect her. Ronald realized he had to confess some of this to her, and explain how he felt about her now that he had the capacity for it.

"Jennessa, I need to tell you. I'm not your average bird."

"Of course not, Esther. You're my familiar."

"Please stop calling me that."

"Right, right. Sorry."

"I'm not just a pet. I'm your friend."

"I know!" Jennessa stopped suddenly to look in his eyes. It wasn't the same way that she looked in Tyson's eyes, he noticed. "Have I been treating you like you're only a pet to me? Because you're not. You're my best friend."

His heart swelled and he searched for the words to explain to her. When she continued leading him along at a speedy pace, the phrase "friend zone" briefly entered his mind. "Jennessa, what is it that you like about Tyson so much?"

"Oh, he's righteous and handsome and he doesn't waste time with words." Jennessa's bright eyes filled with dreamy visions of the elf. "I think he feels the same way about me. He just... doesn't know it yet."

"He doesn't know what he's missing." Ronald insisted, to which Jennessa looked down and blushed, still striding along. "You're an amazing girl. You should forget about him."

"I can't." Jennessa confessed somberly. "I know I should stop chasing him, but I just can't give up. Haven't you ever felt like this about a someone? Haven't you ever... I don't know... been in love?"

Ronald couldn't find his voice to answer her.

They arrived at the castle and Jennessa wrapped her arm around Ronald's. The guards at the gate gave Ronald an odd look, but let him pass with Jennessa. They arrived at the banquet together, Jennessa keeping her chin up and Ronald imitating a proud stride. Cardinal sat close to Juuni, and Sly with Braksala. There was an empty seat next to Tyson, which Jennessa pointedly ignored to sit across from Drell with her date. In a careless glance she noticed that Tyson looked surprised.

Ronald kept very close to her as the food was served. He recalled that he was left-handed, allowing him to hold Jennessa's left hand and still eat.

The time came for harps and violins to start playing, and Jennessa wiped her mouth with a dignified pat. Ronald recognized his cue, and rose from his seat, cleared his throat, and bowed gently. "Kind lady, if I may have this dance...?"

Jennessa rose with a hint of smugness in her smile and took his offered hand.

"You're doing great," she whispered as they floated gracefully away from the table. "He thinks you really want to dance with me."

"Well I do." Ronald said softly, wrapping a hand around her waist. "I'm lucky to be dancing with you."

"You are so sweet. Ronald." she added with a smile. They swayed back and forth to a simple melody. Ronald dropped his hand that supported hers and brought it to her back, sliding it down her back slowly. She leaned against his chest, and for a moment Ronald was happier than he had been since being turned into a bird and trapped here.  
"I'm starting to wish you could stay like this." Jennessa admitted, speaking softly to his chest. "You are quite a good dancer, for a raven."

"You don't have to turn me back." Ronald took a half-step backwards and lifted her hand over her head, pulling her back towards him. "I could get used to this. Eating real food, dancing with you, making fairy-boy jealous." Tyson did look angry. Girls were standing near by, begging him to dance, and he refused them all.

"I can't do that." Jennessa's feet carefully glided along with his as he led her in a waltz. "It's only temporary. Besides, you're safer as a raven. You could get really hurt in battle like this." He brought her in close.

"Watch fairy boy get a load of this." Ronald wispered into her ear. He planted his feet then spun Jennessa out in one hand and reeled her in, catching her thin frame in a dip. She looked positively thrilled, with her arms wrapped gently around his shoulders.

"Perfect," Jennessa muttered to him, positively gleaming with smug happiness. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Tyson getting up from the wall and walking angrily onto the dance floor.

Ronald forgot what he was doing, and the only thought in his head was that this beautiful girl cared about him and loved dancing with him. Suddenly he knew that if he didn't kiss her now, he would regret it forever. So from the dip he held her in, he leaned in just a little more, enough to touch foreheads with hers, and brought their lips together. She'd had enough kisses with fairy-boy to know well enough what she was doing, and she was enthusiastic about kissing him back. His heart soared, and he realized he loved her. He loved her just as surely as she loved Tyson. He didn't want her to be with fairy boy; not tonight, not ever. These lips belonged to him, her best friend and her only friend.

He pulled back gently, green eyes sparkling with deep affection. She looked so happy to be looking back at him, and it was enough to make him forget the years he spent as a raven. "Jennessa..." He didn't have time to put off saying it, not this time. He may never be a human again. "I-"

"If I may cut in?" A deep voice came loudly, snapping Ronald out of his lovestruck stupor. Tyson didn't wait for a reply. He put his hand on the small of Jennessa's arched back and shoved Ronald forcibly out of the way. Ronald didn't have time to react- the elf was already spinning Jennessa away from him gracefully. He reached desperately for her. He had to get her back, before the polymorph spell wore off. He had to tell her she never had to chase the love of elves again, because he loved her.

Jennessa shot a triumphant grin over Tyson's shoulder at him, totally oblivious to his pain. Ronald was left standing there, alone, coattails swishing to the music without the girl to dance with. He ran a hand through his curly hair and walked away, straight out of the ballroom, through the halls, across the moat, past the guards, ("Hey, what happened to the nice girl?") and made it almost halfway to Jennessa's house before the spell wore off, in a brief flurry of smoke and feathers, reducing his gleaming cape and coattails into the feathers of a raven once more. He flew home, defeated, to wait on his perch for Jennessa to tell him all about the night he could have spent with her.


End file.
